Haruhi vs Hibiki
by Rowan Seven
Summary: A chance meeting between Suzumiya Haruhi and Hibiki Ryouga results in the Lost Boy becoming the main character in Haruhi's school writing assignment with Asakura Ryoko as his co-star. High jinks ensue.
1. Remedy!

Title: Haruhi vs Hibiki

Teaser: A chance meeting between Suzumiya Haruhi and Hibiki Ryouga results in the Eternally Lost Boy becoming the main character in Haruhi's school writing assignment. Now, with Asakura Ryoko as his co-star, he has to survive Haruhi's storytelling long enough to save the world.

Author: Rowan Seven

Rating: PG-13 to be safe.

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 was created by Takahashi Rumiko. The Suzumiya Haruhi series was created by Tanigawa Nagaru. I make no legal claims to the characters, settings, and story concepts featured in this story and am not profiting financially from this work of fan fiction.

Author's Notes: This story takes place in the Suzumiya Haruhi animated series sometime after the feature film during the third trimester of the Japanese academic year and in the Ranma ½ series at some undisclosed point between manga volumes 18 and 30 with a blend of anime episodes added in.

* * *

><p>Chapter 1: Remedy - The Lost Boy, Jusenkyo's Cure, and the Cost!<p>

"This...is not what I expected," Hibiki Ryouga said uncertainly as he looked around the esoteric antique store and studied its surprisingly modern design. Seven brightly lit and spacious aisles stretched back farther than he could walk unguided in a straight line with merchandise neatly organized and bar coded on numbered shelves and tables. Serene but unmemorable classical music played from hidden ceiling speakers, dampening but not erasing the quiet drone of a mechanical temperature control system. Beside the eternally lost Japanese youth, the store's owner sat behind an electronic checkout station and nodded her head sympathetically but not apologetically.

"I hear that a lot, but in today's rough economy you have to keep up with the times," she explained patiently with a warm but professional smile on her face. "Even in my family's specialized line of business there's a lot of competition, and while respecting tradition is important meeting the changing needs of our customers comes first. We even have an online store now, although the website can be a bit...hard to find at times."

The storekeeper chuckled, as if at a private joke, and the raven-haired teenager reflected that she was also not what he'd expected. Instead of the wizened, elderly, and oftentimes quirky proprietor he was used to finding in these types of shops, she was young, more than a little attractive, dressed in a business style skirt and blouse, and so far seemed entirely normal other than her mishmash of blonde hair and dark oriental skin.

Realizing he was beginning to stare, Ryouga coughed and raised a hand to scratch the back of his neck. "I...ah, I see. I don't get the chance to use computers very often anyway so it's no skin off my back."

Becoming more thoughtful, the Lost Boy hmmed and turned to the reason he'd entered the store in the first place.

"You wouldn't happen to have any martial arts scrolls lying around, would you?" he asked hopefully, leaning down and placing a hand on the shopkeeper's table so the two of them were at eye level. "I'm looking for new techniques to help me defeat my rival, and when I saw your shop it looked like a good place to try my luck."

The female shopkeeper grinned appreciatively.

"I'll see what I can do, sir. If you'll wait just a moment while I search my inventory?" she requested, turning to her computer screen and typing in a couple key words. The queried results appeared a few seconds later, and the young woman frowned regretfully.

"I'm sorry, sir. Our last secret technique scroll was bought last month by a traveling Shaolin monk on a quest to avenge his teacher. We currently have several on backorder, but it'll be at least three weeks before we have any in stock again. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Ryouga sighed despondently and stood back up. In three weeks time he'd be lucky if he was still on the same continent let alone anywhere near this store, and while he could take a business card and place an online order that option was predicated on both his ability to find a public computer and his family's house to receive the package. The sheer difficulty of that twin feat filled him with despair.

"No, I'm afraid not," he answered glumly, gaze returning to the long aisles and their mysterious but professionally sorted contents. "Not unless you happen to have any Jusenkyo water, anyway, but the odds of that-"

"Spring of Drowned Wombat, Spring of Drowned Polar Bear-very, _very_ tragic story, that-, Spring of Almost Drowned Combat Butler, Spring of Drowned Boy, and Spring of Drowned Aardvark, all available in barrel or temporary instant powder options," the shopkeeper interrupted with cheerful politeness as she read the results off her computer monitor. "We might also have other cursed spring water available in solely barrel or instant powder form, and if you want me to search I can-""

Ryouga slammed his hands down on the checkout counter with such force the table would have snapped had it not been reinforced with metal.

"Did you say Spring of Drowned Boy?" the wandering Hibiki questioned with desperate hope in his voice. "Please, if you have any, I'll take it!"

The merchant craned her head to gaze intently at the Lost Boy. "Before we continue, you should be warned about Jusenkyo. I don't know what you've heard, but Jusenkyo is also known as the 'Springs of Sorrow' and for good reason. Over the centuries-"

"-many creatures and people have tragically fallen into the springs and met their doom," Ryouga interrupted impatiently, reciting the information as if by rote. "Now anyone unfortunate enough to be touched by a Jusenkyo spring's waters takes on the form of the creature that drowned in that spring. Hot water changes them back, but cold water reactivates the curse. Believe me, miss, I _know_ Jusenkyo and its horror far better than anyone ever should."

Having heard the anguish in her customer's voice as he talked about Jusenkyo, the merchant sighed and nodded her head. "Very well then. I can hazard a guess now why you're so interested in Spring of Drowned Boy water, but please be advised that Jusenkyo is by its very nature chaotic. Using its power-whether for good or evil-often has unintended consequences. Now if you'll hold on for just a second..."

The merchant returned her gaze to her computer monitor and double-checked something.

"You're in luck, sir. We happen to have a single barrel of cursed Jusenkyo water from the Spring of Drowned Boy available in Aisle 3, Section Q. And because you're a first-time customer and have a 'special' need for it, the barrel is on sale for cheap. Today only and just for you."

For the briefest of seconds Ryouga greeted this news with cynical suspicion. He'd been let down by alleged cures before, and it often seemed that whenever his life appeared to improve he was actually being set-up for crushing disappointment and/or painful humiliation in the near future in a bizarre-and completely unfair, he would add-karmic balance. Experience was not always the best teacher for the Lost Boy, though, and his initial distrust was soon utterly eclipsed by the sheer joy he felt at a cure being within arm's reach. After all, this was an opportunity for him to turn his life around and _finally_ be a whole man again, right? He would be a fool if he didn't take it, and it wasn't as if his life could actually get any worse. Right?

"Deal!" he answered excitedly as he reached for his wallet and began to count out currency, so happy he didn't even ask how much the shopkeeper wanted or notice that she didn't seem bothered that he was paying with a mix of yen, renminbi, and Euros.

_With the tragedy of Jusenkyo lifted from me, nothing will stop me now. Nothing!_

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

"Nothing is going to stop me from writing a story so brilliant that Murakami Haruki will weep in envy! Nothing! Not the self-limiting conventions of modern literature, not the seven day deadline, and especially _not_ your laziness, Kyon, so stop sulking and help inspire me!"

I shook my head long-sufferingly as Haruhi leveled her potent glare at me. Her light brown eyes flashed with annoyance that would have been relatively harmless had their owner not also possessed godlike reality-warping powers that caused me no end of problems despite Haruhi's complete ignorance of them. Sometimes I wondered if my life would be any better if my tyrannical classmate learned the truth about herself...but only in the sense one wonders if ants really would destroy the world within a week if given nuclear weapons. It wouldn't even take Haruhi that long; simply convince her that she has the power to change the world and then watch as she resets the universe. It had almost happened once, and I wasn't looking forward to a repeat.

Yes, this is what my once promisingly normal high school experience has sunk to: keeping Haruhi entertained enough that her subconscious doesn't remake the world out of boredom. And if anyone thinks that sounds like fun, try being stuck in an infinite time loop and repeating the same two weeks 15,532 times.

"It's just a school assignment," I protested in the vain hope Haruhi would listen to common sense for once in her life. "You could probably turn in a 10 page story about my cat and still get a good grade."

For a brief moment Haruhi's eyes gleamed with a burst of frightening creativity as she contemplated the idea and I wondered tiredly if Shamisen would be making philosophical statements in Japanese again when I returned home. Luckily, though, Haruhi dismissed the idea just as quickly and resumed scowling with a disgusted huff.

"Don't be stupid, Kyon. No one wants to read a story with a cat as the main character unless Studio Ghibli is involved! Now everyone, do your duty as my loyal SOS Brigade henchmen and help me get over my writer's block! No, not you, Kyon. I've given up on you 'cause you're hopeless. Koizumi, Yuki, Mikuru, any ideas?"

Koizumi Itsuki, esper boy wonder and secret agent of the equally secretive Organization, looked away from the shogi game we were playing and directed the indulgent smile plastered on his face Haruhi's way.

"I'm afraid I'm at a loss, Miss Suzumiya. Writer's block or not, though, I'm sure you'll pass in a wonderful story."

Nagato Yuki, humanoid interface of the Data Integration Thought Entity and resident alien bookworm, was unsurprisingly similarly unhelpful. Sitting in her customary chair by the window, she looked up briefly from her book, shook her head once in the negative, and returned to reading.

-Sigh- Strike 2 going on 3. Do I have to do _everything_ around here?

The heavenly time-traveling Asahina Mikuru was next on Haruhi's glower list and reacted with predictable timidity as she "eeped" and tried to hide behind me. Oh Mikuru, how I'd love to be your white knight in shining armor and protect you from dragon Haruhi but alas; even Saint George armed with Ascalon would have trouble fighting this serpent.

"Argh! Is this the best my Brigade can do? You're supposed to spread excitement all over the world with me, _not_ sit around stewing in mediocrity! Clearly meeting in the same clubroom day after day has led to creative stagnation, so as your fearless leader I'm ordering us all out into the great wide world. And don't let the storm outside bother you. Neither rain nor fire will stop the SOS Brigade! When we meet again tomorrow I expect all of you to have at least one-no, at least _two_ ideas brilliant enough to be called the second coming of the Tale of Genji!"

Setting the bar awfully high, aren't you Haruhi? Still, maybe if I'm lucky this'll let me spend the evening with the adorable Asahini-

"Kyon, you're with me because you're so lazy you won't get anything done if somebody doesn't keep a constant eye on you! Yuki, Mikuru, Koizumi, you three head towards Kabutoyama Forest Park. Kyon and I will head towards Koshien. Understood? Good. Dismissed!"

I _really_ should've seen that coming.

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

Hibiki Ryouga was lost, late for a duel, and drenched. Any one of these three would have normally been enough to plunge him into despair, but today the Eternally Lost Boy found he couldn't care less. Lost? That was hardly anything new, and instead of worrying why not enjoy the great wide world? Late? Serves that jerk Ranma right! After the hell his rival had put him through it was only fair that Ranma wait a few more days for him to show up. Soaked to the bone by cold rain water?

"Hahahaha!"

The laughter that erupted from Ryouga's throat was borderline maniacal but unmistakably jubilant. It also-in combination with the red umbrella strapped to his backpack that remained counter-intuitively unopened despite the evening's downpour-earned him several odd looks from those he passed on the city street, but he was too happy to feel self-conscious. It had been..._so long_ since he'd been able to enjoy the simple, gentle touch of rain on his skin or listen to the soft sound of falling raindrops without feeling apprehension in his heart. The sheer joy and utter relief he felt now that he was cured and no longer needed to fear turning into a piglet when exposed to cold water...it was indescribable.

_The world may be a dark and lonely place, but moments like this make it all worth it_, the wandering martial artist thought with a good-natured chuckle. Noticing that the rain was starting to taper off, he spared a look up at the gray clouds above and then slowly surveyed his surroundings to get his bearings.

"Huh. I suppose I'd better ask for directions from someone soon. I don't want to keep Ranma waiting _too_ long, and the sooner I get to Nerima the sooner I can pound his face in and ask A-A-Akane out on a date," he finished with a nervous stammer as he reached into one of his backpack's side-pockets and fished around for the map he remembered placing there. Once he dug that out all he needed to do was find someone to give him directions and then make a beeline straight for Nerima and everything would be golden!

...Okay, even he knew it wouldn't be that easy, but taking his directional problems and embarrassingly acute nervousness around cute girls in stride he was _sure_ he'd finally be able to make progress with Akane this time. He could even ask Ukyo for help too! With all of their previous break-up-Ranma-and-Akane schemes having failed their next one was bound to be a success through statistical odds alone. All he needed to do was to get directions and get to Nerima and then everything would sort itself out.

"Life," he couldn't help remarking with an irrepressibly happy grin on his face, "is wonderful."

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

"Damn it, we've been searching for almost an hour and _still_ haven't found anything inspiring. Why is the world so boring? Life sucks!"

More like thirty-five minutes, Haruhi, and it's not like you can expect the nine muses of ancient Greek myth to descend from Mount Helicon and hand deliver you a good story. Though, come to think of it, this whole yet-another-waste-of-my-time-because-of-Haruhi fiasco does raise an unusual question.

"This is a first for you, isn't it?"

Haruhi looked up at me, annoyance mixed with determination on her face, as we walked together on the sidewalk through urban Nishinomiya. The rain had stopped shortly after we left the school together, the last rays of the sun were disappearing on the horizon, and the city's lights were starting to turn on. It was the very picture of a peaceful evening, but I knew that if I didn't figure out what was wrong with my classmate soon and fix it I would inevitably be dragged into another crisis with the fate of the world at stake.

-sigh- I never thought junior high would look good in retrospect, but those years don't seem that bad now...

"Writer's block, I mean," I clarified, resolved to see this through now that I'd taken the initial plunge. "You've never lacked for ideas before, and this whole situation doesn't...seem like you. What happened to the Ultra-Director of the Adventures of Asahina Mikuru Episode 00?"

Haruhi ground her teeth and glanced away but not before I caught the flash of irritation aimed at herself for once. Curiouser and curiouser.

"Writer's block isn't the right word. I have plenty of great ideas for this writing assignment. Dozens. Hundreds, even! It's just...none of them are _good enough_!"

Melancholy and frustration entered Haruhi's voice as she continued, and I felt my own spirits sink with hers but for entirely different reasons. Please God, if you're not Haruhi, don't let the world end tonight.

"The Adventures of Asahina Mikuru? Been there, done that, already have the next two films and a prequel trilogy planned out. Oh, and I expect even better special effects than your mediocre effort last time, Kyon, so you'd better be ready!"

Ugh. More like I'd better put more effort into finding my mysterious benefactor from last time, but what Haruhi doesn't know-wait, that idiom doesn't work _at all_ here.

"My movie expanded the horizons of cinematic achievement, and I want to do the same for the written word. Write a story so brilliant and so awesome that it'll win the Naoki Prize for literature and kindle a creative fervor among the nation! And to do this I need a truly _unique_ idea, something so original that not even _I_ have thought of it before. I won't stand for anything less than perfect, and my hundreds of ideas-as good as they are-aren't new _to me_. I need...something bold and super amazing, but I'm not sure what yet."

So wait...Haruhi, whose ideas are normally so outside the box they need to call her long distance, wants something even further out of the box? Quick Kyon, think of something fast before you wake up in a world with teenage mutant ninja turtles!

"There's more to writing a masterpiece than doing something new," I pointed out, masking the urgency I felt as we stopped at an intersection and waited for the crossing signal. "Some of the best stories ever written are those that depict simple, everyday life or revisit familiar themes, and many authors would say that creating characters readers care about and can relate to is more important than plot. After all, who wants to read a story that's nothing but a brilliant idea with no heart or soul?"

Haruhi sighed. "And who ever said the two are mutually exclusive? Any story I write is going to have an exciting plot _and_ extraordinary characters. I just need an idea that bridges the two, and it won't come to me if I simply stand still and wait for it. Inspiration needs to be hunted down, seized, and throttled until it's sweating pools of pure unadulterated creativity for me to imbibe in a goblet carved from a human skull! So c'mon and hurry up, Kyon. You're slowing me down."

Transforming words into action, Haruhi promptly grabbed my arm and pulled me after her across the street the instant the light changed. Used to all manner of abuse and manhandling from her by now I merely exhaled sadly at the rough treatment and resigned myself to another lost night dragged along after Haruhi's whims instead of studying. Sorry Mom, Dad, but if I don't get into Todai at least you'll know who to blame.

"Excuse me, but would you two happen to know the way to the Tendo Dojo?"

The voice pulled the two of us up short, and Haruhi and I both stopped at the opposite corner and turned to regard the young man standing next to a lamppost who'd asked the question. He looked to be about our age and had rain-slicked shaggy black hair held out of his brown eyes by a peculiar yellow and black checkered bandana. He carried a large, brown canvas backpack on his back with a red umbrella strapped to the top and was holding a map (Was that a picture of Tokyo Disneyland on the front?) upside-down in his right hand while the other scratched the back of his neck in clear embarrassment.

I thought: _This guy's kind of goofy looking. What is he, a tourist? _

Haruhi's thoughts, on the other hand, took an entirely different direction.

"Tendo Dojo?" she repeated thoughtfully, a spark of excitement simmering in her voice as she mulled over the stranger's question. "Let me guess: you're a martial artist on your way to a duel with your arch rival for the heart of a girl!"

I barely repressed my face-palm. As if, Haruhi. That kind of stuff only happens in manga-

"Wow! Something like that. How'd you know?" The young man asked with awe in his voice, apparently astounded by Haruhi's deductive abilities.

Crap. I don't know if that's surprise or pleasure at being right on your face right now, Haruhi, but _please_ let this lie. Remember, you're interested in aliens, time travelers, and espers, not martial artists!

Haruhi did not hear my silent plea.

"I'm awesome like that," she explained with a broad smile on her face and a bright-I would say dangerous-gleam in her eyes. "Tell me, do you get attacked by ninjas on a daily basis? Or know any secret techniques that can kill a person just by poking them?"

The alleged martial artist's demeanor darkened instantly at that last question, and he opened his mouth-Please don't notice his fangs, Haruhi-to say something, frowned, and then chuckled weakly.

"N-n-no, none of the killing variety. Those types of techniques are dangerous, and I'm not sure I'm...ah, at the point where I trust myself to use them responsibly."

So no epic kung fu North Star rip-off death touch? That's a small relief. Still, I'd better say something and take control of this conversation before it gets any stranger and Haruhi's subconscious fills the world with characters from Street Fighter.

"I can't say I've heard of this Tendo Dojo before. Can you be more specific about where you're trying to get to?"

The stranger flashed me a grateful look, seemingly relieved about the change in topic from Mortal Kombat inspired fatalities.

"How about Nerima, then? I'd also settle for directions to Tokyo. I'm _reasonably_ sure I can find my way from there."

Had I not been seized by a sense of growing panic I might have actually been amused by the sound of genuine surprise in Haruhi's voice.

"_Tokyo_? That's over 300 miles east of here!"

"Is it? Good! That means I'm closer than I thought. I can probably get there in a day or two on foot if I'm lucky..."

"Why don't you take a bus to the nearest train station and catch the JR from there instead?" I spoke up again, hoping to interrupt Haruhi's fanciful imagination before it went and made an already weird situation into something even an avante-garde post-modernist artist would gawk at.

The martial artist shrugged. "Meh, the last time I rode the JR I took a nap and woke up on the Trans-Siberian halfway to Moscow. Stupid train conductor not announcing the line change. I trust my feet more, anyway. At least I can be assured of waking up in the morning in the same place I set up my tent the night before...usually."

Haruhi's entire face lit up at this comment as her mind put two and two together and got three.

"Aha! Sounds like you're a frequent alien abductee! The extraterrestrials are doubtlessly interested in your martial arts skills and kidnap you while you sleep to probe your mind and perform intrusive tests on your body! Quick, take off your shirt so I can see if you have any scars!

With a beleaguered sigh I stepped forward to stop the SOS Brigade Chief before she tore the stranger's clothes off his body, but the young man reacted even faster. Emitting an inarticulate choke of embarrassment at the thought of being undressed in public by a high school girl, he hurriedly stepped back-no, step isn't the right word. More like he _glided_ back across the concrete out of Haruhi's reach, his steps so fast I couldn't even see them.

"A-ha-ha...I, um, d-d-d-don't think that w-w-would...um," he stuttered nervously, eyes partially glazed and unfocused before he finally seemed to make the intelligent realization that spending more time around Haruhi would be dangerous for his modesty and any sense of dignity he might possess. "Ah, l-l-look at the t-t-time! I _really_ n-n-n-need to get to the T-T-Tendo Dojo so...ah, thanks for the directions. Bye!"

The young man, bowing once politely, turned to leave, but Haruhi was not quite done with him yet.

"Wait! What's your name?" she shouted.

"Hibiki Ryouga," he called back automatically as he rounded a corner and disappeared from sight. Haruhi, pausing for just a second, ran after him and I ran after her, but by the time we reached the same corner there was no sign of him. He was gone...but not out of a certain girl's mind, unfortunately.

"Kyon," the SOS Brigade Chief announced excitedly, entire being alight with inspiration. "I have an absolutely awesome idea for my story!"

-Sigh- I'm sure you do, Haruhi. I'm sure you do, and that's what I'm afraid of.

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

Haruhi called out the customary "Tadaima!" as she entered her parents' house, took off her shoes, put on a pair of slippers, and stormed up to her bedroom.

_Stupid Kyon_, she thought irritably, a frown on her face as she sat down at her desk and took out a notebook of lined paper. _Criticizing my story idea when his only suggestion was to write about _a cat_. He clearly has no appreciation for true genius! Well, I'll show him and all of Japan how to write a short story! _

Haruhi tapped a finger impatiently against the wood surface of her desk, a pensive expression on her face as she mulled over where to start. And then inspiration struck, a frightfully excited smile formed, and she grabbed a pencil and began to write.

**The Adventures of Hibiki Ryouga Book 00!**

"This-" Haruhi said with an eager grin that those who knew her best might call diabolic. "-is going to be absolutely terrific!"

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><p>Addendum: This story is in not a sequel to my previous works, <span>Ryouga vs the Road Runner<span> and Magical Girl Ranko vs Z-Fighter Ryouga, despite the similar titles. This story was originally entitled The Adventures of Hibiki Ryouga Book 00, but I changed it in favor of the current title because I preferred the way Haruhi vs Hibiki sounded and because this title does a better job of establishing from the get-go that this is a crossover between the Ranma and Haruhi series. I definitely did _not_ choose the current title in a blatant attempt to leech off the popularity of my previous works of fan fiction, nope and no siree, though if you by happenstance want to read the stories mentioned above they're available under my Fanfiction-net profile. They come TV Tropes recommended too!

Joking aside, it's been a while since I've written fan fiction and there are a few people who I owe thanks to for getting me motivated again. I'm not going to name names, but one of them is a long-time reader who recently contacted me and let me know how much he'd enjoyed reading one of my earliest works of fan fiction, No Need for a Team-Up!, back when it first appeared on the internet. This story has not aged well and Fanfiction-net ate the formatting years ago leaving the story a jumbled mess, but it meant a lot to me to learn that something I'd written-however ineptly-had given this reader an abiding interest in the crossover genre that still endures today. Additionally, more than a few of my favorite fan fiction writers have been working on massive projects that, quite bluntly, blow my past writing accomplishments out of the water. This is more than a little humbling, but the example these writers set with their dedication is galvanizing and inspires me to write more myself. Either that or it irks my pride enough that I need to write more simply to maintain my ego, but I prefer to think it's the former.

As for what brought this story on, my original plan was to write an El-Hazard and Ranma ½ crossover fusion with members of the Nerima Wrecking Crew taking the place of the Shinonome characters. They'd be adventure, romance, and the hilarity of Kasumi with Fujisawa's superpowers! I even already had most of the story plotted out in my mind and only needed to iron out a few kinks, but while I was working on untangling these plot point I took a break to watch anime music videos on Youtube and happened to rediscover one starring Asakura Ryoko set to Portal's "Still Alive" song.

"No, don't let her smile sway you!" I thought in vain. "You've been contemplating writing this El-Hazard crossover on and off for years now. Don't completely change the plan just because one anime character is cute! Besides, how would you even write a Haruhi/Ranma crossover? It's not like-wait, that sounds like an interesting idea. Maybe I should-no! Remember El-Hazard! You want to write a...oh snap."

The moral of the story? TV Tropes isn't the only website that can ruin your life, and I have a weakness to cute. Anyway, even though this isn't the story I initially intended to write, I hope this story's readers will enjoy the tale anyway. Thanks for giving this work of fan fiction a chance. Until next time.


	2. Reboot!

Title: Haruhi vs Hibiki

Teaser: A chance meeting between Suzumiya Haruhi and Hibiki Ryouga results in the Eternally Lost Boy becoming the main character in Haruhi's school writing assignment. Now, with Asakura Ryoko as his co-star, he has to survive Haruhi's storytelling long enough to save the world.

Author: Rowan Seven

Rating: PG-13 to be safe.

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 was created by Takahashi Rumiko. The Suzumiya Haruhi series was created by Tanigawa Nagaru. I make no legal claims to the characters, settings, and story concepts featured in this story and am not profiting financially from this work of fan fiction.

* * *

><p>Chapter 2: Reboot - The Resurrection of Asakura Ryoko!<p>

"The Adventures of Hibiki Ryouga...Book 00?" Koizumi Itsuki repeated thoughtfully, omnipresent cheerful smile firmly etched on his face despite the apprehension I knew he had to be feeling inside. After the debacle of a film shoot that was 'The Adventures of Asahina Mikuru Episode 00' there was no way any of us in the SOS Brigade could possibly be sanguine about Haruhi engaging in another exercise of creative storytelling.

"Yep!" Haruhi confirmed cheerfully, standing proudly beside the marker board in our clubroom where she'd written the title of her self-professed newest masterpiece in large capital letters, underlined it three times, and drawn in stars.

"It's going to be a martial arts action/drama piece with love, mystery, and the fate of the world at stake!"

Oh, is that all Haruhi? _Only_ the fate of the world? And here I thought this might be seri-

"I'm still rounding out the full cast, but the title character goes without saying and the choice for his co-star is obvious," Haruhi spoke with satisfaction in her voice, turning back to the marker board to write down two names. When she finished and I saw them, the second name screamed at me. I almost screamed back.

**Hibiki Ryouga - wandering martial artist.**

**Asakura Ryoko - space alien ninja.**

Obvious? How is the choice of the former classmate who tried to kill me twice in any way _obvious_?

"I was struggling with choosing characters last night when a light bulb went off and I remembered Asakura and her mysteriously sudden move to Canada. The more I thought about it the more I realized that the most obvious explanation for her abrupt transfer was that she's an alien assassin and she needed to lie low for a while!"

...Ouch. So painfully wrong and yet frighteningly close to the truth. Why do I bother trying to understand Haruhi's reasoning again?

"Interesting casting choices," Koizumi said politely to fill the silence that had followed Haruhi's pronouncement. An eloquent flourish of his hands accompanied his remark, and a moment later his left hand rested pensively on his chin while the right hand held the other arm's elbow as he assumed a classic thinking pose. "However, since Miss Asakura is a former student of this school, as a simple matter of courtesy perhaps you should obtain her consent before using her likeness in what is certain to be a popular and well read work of fiction?"

Wow. Koizumi, are you actually trying to dissuade Haruhi from doing something crazy in your own incredibly passive and polite way? It won't work, but still wow. Today is just full of surprises.

The brunette Brigade Chief shrugged indifferently. "No need, Koizumi! I'm sure both Ryoko and Ryouga would be honored to know that I'm deigning to use them in my latest story, and if they want to complain they can do so _after_ my story has been published across Japan and translated into 37 different languages."

"What role do you intend to have Asakura perform in this story?" Nagato asked suddenly from where she sat at the clubroom table, face and voice equally inexpressive although I knew her interest in this was not wholly clinical. Ryoko had been her back-up unit before the absolutely TERRIFYING first murder attempt, and their impressive battle royale had ended in Ryoko's termination.

Haruhi swelled up with pride at the question. "Isn't that also obvious, Yuki? Ryoko's going to be Ryouga's main love interest, but only after she tries to kill him! That's how these things always work in kung fu stories." She finished the sentence with a hand chopping motion to emphasize her point and then turned her sly gaze to Asahina.

"And speaking of kung fu, I have a new outfit for you Mikuru! Have you ever worn a sarashi before?"

While Haruhi cornered the hapless time traveler I turned to Nagato with a pleading look in my eyes. After everything that had happened with Ryoko surely the Data Integration Thought Entity wouldn't-

Nagato met my gaze with her own brilliant golden brown eyes and curtly nodded her head. Yes, the Data Integration Thought Entity would.

-Sigh-Well, that just figures. Not that I had high hopes to begin with, but shouldn't an ancient alien supercomputer know better? What could the Data Entity possibly be thinking in allowing this?

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

The Data Integration Thought Entity is an alien consciousness consisting of pure thought. It is sentient data free from any physical form and communicates in the language of ideas. It exists on a plane of mental activity so advanced as to be incomprehensible to homo sapiens and can only interface with the human race through the use of self-made intermediaries.

Were it possible to isolate one of the Data Integration Thought Entity's multitudinous cogitations, slow it down, and vastly simplify it, though, it might look something like this:

::External request received for use of humanoid data interface Asakura.R from observational study subject Suzumiya.H.

::Processing request...

::Processing request...

::Processing request...

::Request confirmed. Limited release of humanoid data interface Asakura.R authorized for data observation and collection purposes.

::Initializing...

::Initializing...

::Initialization complete. Humanoid data interface Asakura.R reactivated.

::Query. Is this really a good idea?

::Processing query...

::Processing query...

::Query processed.

::Answer. No, probably not.

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

**It was a dark and stormy night, the type of night that brings out the best and worst in a city and its inhabitants. It was the type of night that-**

"'It was a dark and stormy night'? Really, Haruhi? You're starting your story with _that_ line?"

"Show respect for the classics, Kyon! My writing may be the avant-garde crest of a new wave that sweeps away the old and sets the next benchmark for short stories, but I'm still magnanimous enough to include a tribute or two to the great Bulwer-Lytton! Now, unless the _peanut gallery_ has anything more to say, I have a story to write."

**It was a dark and stormy night, the type of night that brings out the best and worst in a city and its inhabitants. It was the type of black night that martial artist Hibiki Ryouga thrived in. He was a wanderer, a journeyer of many lands, and to him the facades and airs people put on under the sun were an insulting lie. He was a man of action, not words, and preferred to deal with the world head-on and honestly. He wished others would do the same, but it seemed to him that most people only showed their true faces when, ironically, those faces were masked by the darkness of night. But such is the way of the world, or so he reasoned to himself, and on this night he was more than a traveler forced to deal with the cruelties and deceptions of ordinary life: he was a man on a mission in search of danger.**

**Little did Hibiki Ryouga know that danger would find him first. **

"Achoo!"

Briefly reflecting that perhaps spending so much time in the rain without opening his umbrella hadn't been such a good idea after all, Ryouga looked up at the red and now unfurled canopy of his trusted combat parasol and then glanced unhappily at the torrents of water falling down all around him. His nostalgic joy at once again being able to feel the gentle caress of raindrops had quickly faded as he'd walked from yesterday's mild shower into tonight's fierce storm.

Still, as annoyed at the weather as Ryouga was, he knew to be grateful that it was merely an inconvenience and not the crippling impediment it had once been. He was still human, still traveling on two feet instead of waiting impotently under shelter somewhere, and, best of all, he was in Tokyo and managing to stay inside the city if the three times he'd passed Tokyo Tower were any indication. He'd almost certainly come across Nerima soon, and then he would find the Tendo Dojo and _finally_ prove himself to Akane. Just imagining the look on Ranma's face when he showed up soaking wet but not transformed into a piglet made him want to break out in laughter again.

_Yes_, the Lost Boy thought cheerfully, _my life is beginning to look up._

"Excuse me...but are you Hibiki Ryouga?"

**The irenic female voice called to him-called **_**for**_** him-with the irresistible strength of a siren's song, stopping Hibiki Ryouga in his tracks. As the martial artist turned around, the rain stopped and the clouds parted just enough to reveal the full moon above and let a ray of selenic light shine down and illuminate the equally mesmerizing speaker. More young woman than girl, the lovely teenager had long tresses of silky blue hair that trailed down to just below her waist, invitingly gentle azure eyes, and the type of drop dead gorgeous body shape that would have been impossible to look away from had her cherubic, heart-shaped face not been so eye-catching. Wearing a blue and white school sailor uniform and carrying a recently closed umbrella in her right hand, the stranger radiated with the sweet innocence of a lost, bygone era and seemed for all the world to be as an angel on earth.**

**Seeing her, Hibiki Ryouga was too stunned by the girl's beauty to speak. His world narrowed down to just himself and her as the other travelers on the city street that night vanished from view, as if what was to happen next was meant to be experienced just by the two of them. **

Hibiki Ryouga was confused and tongue-tied. Neither was a particularly novel state for him to be in, but familiarity didn't make them any easier to deal with or provide him with answers to the questions now running through his head. Why had everyone else on the street other than him and this mysterious girl suddenly scurried off faster than Furinkan's female track team when Happosai was in town? Who was this mysterious girl standing a few yards away and how did she know him? And most puzzling of all, why was his sixth sense honed through years practicing martial arts all but screaming that he was surrounded by danger on every side?

Filled with a sense of foreboding only partially offset by his customary nervousness around the opposite sex, Ryouga tentatively opened his mouth to answer the girl's question.

"Y-y-yes, that's me. I'm him. He is me. Ah, that is, I mean, I'm Hi-Hibiki Ryouga."

The girl raised a hand to cover her mouth and giggled. The sweet sound was like morning birds singing, and as she gracefully walked closer-tresses of her lustrous, waist-length hair glistening under the moonlight that seemed to follow her-Ryouga found himself in a losing battle to maintain his focus.

_Must not stare. Must not stare. Must not stare. Must not-Quick, think of something to say!_

Bravely rallying, the Lost Boy asked the first question that came to mind.

"I'm sorry, but have we m-m-met before?"

Gentle smile still on her face, the girl shook her head in the negative.

"No, I'm afraid we haven't," she spoke kindly as, despite her words, she continued to advance until she stood less than a foot in front of the Lost Boy, casually entering his personal space as if they were long-time friends. She took a moment to examine him with her azure eyes, and as Ryouga blushed under her scrutiny the corners of her smile lifted a tiny bit higher.

"Ah, but where are my manners? Please allow me to introduce myself." Blinking once, she bent forward in a slight bow.

"My name is Asakura Ryoko, and I'm here to kill you."

**Hibiki Ryouga was no stranger to death threats and almost smiled at the familiar words. This was an honesty he could appreciate, a statement of intentions without any pretenses, and that it came from a would-be assassin of all people meant that his opponent was, in her own way, honorable. And in a fight to the death between martial artists, if you could respect your adversary did anything else truly matter? **

"Eh?" Ryouga said, surprise joining the mix of other emotions swelling up inside him. He was more accustomed to issuing death threats than receiving them, and the fact that it was a cute girl declaring she would kill him did not help his state of mind any. And if she was going to try to kill him, couldn't she tell him why first? He at least had the courtesy to let Ranma know that he'd seen hell because of him, and it wasn't as if stating one's intention in a battle was the only thing that mattered.

"I'm afraid I still don't understand the concept of death regarding organic life forms well," Ryoko continued without a hint of insincerity in her voice, setting her umbrella down and apologetically folding her hands in front of her. "Your species makes it so complicated! Still, I have learned enough that I won't begrudge any resistance on your part despite its futility if it will make you happy before you die."

The Eternally Lost Boy tilted his head to the side and looked at his would-be murder in confusion, bewilderment counter-intuitively doing more to clear his thoughts than the danger he was supposedly in.

"You want to...kill me? Why? According to you this is the first time we've met." A sense of familiarity with this situation suddenly descended upon the wandering martial artist like a lightning bolt, and his brown eyes widened in epiphany.

"Wait. You don't have me confused with a Saotome Ranma by any chance, do you? This kind of thing is always happening to him, and I'm _sure_ this is his fault somehow. Or maybe his father's. One of the two. It always is."

Ryoko shook her head again, her sweet smile not wavering in the slightest. "No. There is no confusion. You, Hibiki Ryouga, are my designated target."

The Lost Boy narrowed his eyes, beginning to resign himself to a fight, and let his backpack drop from his shoulders. An instant later he closed his red umbrella and tightened his grip on its handle. So far he hadn't sensed any traces of a battle aura coming from this young woman and she wasn't displaying any telltale signs of being a high-level martial artist, but it couldn't hurt to be cautious.

"I don't suppose you could tell me _why_ I'm your target?" Ryouga asked over the loud 'plop' his heavy pack made as it landed on the concrete sidewalk behind him. "I...well, it's not honorable to hurt g-g-girls, and I'd rather not fight you if we can avoid it. Are you sure this isn't a misunderstanding of some sort?"

The blue-haired teenager shook her head a third time and reached out to the right with one hand.

"No, there is no misunderstanding. Whether you care about it or not, I really do want you to die."

A combat knife suddenly appeared in Ryoko's extended hand as if by magic, and with the speed of a top-rate student athlete Ryoko swung the weapon at her opponent. Ryouga, in contrast, reacted with the speed of a top-rate martial artist and in less time than it takes to blink reached out with his free left hand, grabbed his opponent's wrist, and applied pressure. The knife clattered to the ground harmlessly as Ryoko released her grip on it and looked up at Ryouga with an unflappably friendly smile. Ryouga gazed back at her incredulously.

"You're fast for an ordinary human. How interesting!" Ryoko exclaimed happily, seemingly unconcerned by the strong hold Ryouga had on her wrist. "Now I actually want you to resist. It won't change the outcome, but I might be able to collect new data."

**And so Hibiki Ryouga and Asakura Ryoko's legendary battle of legendary martial arts began under the legendary Tokyo moonlight! Ryoko, whispering ominous incantations in a secret ninja language, raised her free hand high above her head and formed a lethal mudra. The elevated appendage immediately lit up with a ghastly blue light as it was infused with the drop dead gorgeous ninja schoolgirl's dark ninja powers, and like a monstrous bird of prey swooping down to claim its victim Ryoko's hand suddenly plunged towards her opponent's heart with an air-slicing screech!**

**For a hundredth thousandth of a second Ryouga's superhumanly sharp eyes darted from his opponent's imprisoned right hand to her lethal left hand, and in a thousandth millionth of a second he made his inhumanly fast decision. Reluctantly releasing the ninja's right hand, the martial artist countered her incoming mudra with an open palm strike, catching and stopping the glowing appendage between the index and middle fingers of his left hand. And then, acting before Ryoko could react, he turned and pulled the ninja after him, spinning her round and round in a torturous twister of caustic centripetal force before finally letting go and hurling her at mach speeds at the nearest wall!**

**Ryoko giggled airily as she flew through the air and tumbled into a roll so that her feet touched the concrete rampart first. Running up the wall even as it collapsed under her from the impact, she kicked off the top and leapt back at her opponent. With a new knife held by both hands in front of her, master and weapon spun together like a mad corkscrew intent on drilling through their target! **

**Ryouga would have none of this. Raising his combat umbrella-the shaft carved from sacred bamboo grown in the heart of a dead volcano and the canopy handsewn by a dozen virginal Buddhist nuns singing holy sutras!-he dashed forward with enough force in his steps to smash small craters in the street and swung his own weapon at the spinning ninja. Ryoko twisted and blocked with her knife, but the strength of the blow sent her tumbling away in the opposite direction. Her feet touched the ground in a shower of sparks as Ryouga thrust his umbrella at her, but before it could connect Ryoko called upon her dark ninja powers again and vanished! **

**The martial artist only had a millionth billionth of a second to react as he suddenly sensed the ninja appear behind him with knife drawn, but that was all the time he needed. Faster than a speeding bullet he turned and parried. Knife met umbrella and umbrella met knife in a furious exchange as the two warriors went at each other, their forms blurring into blurry blurs. White hot sparks flew and danced through the air as their weapons pushed and ground against each other, and for a brief moment time seemed to stop as their eyes met through the conflict and they lost themselves in each other's intent gazes.**

**And then...they both got serious!**

"Oh cr-" Ryouga didn't have time to finish his expletive as Ryoko's right arm traced an arc through the air, conjuring half a dozen spears from apparent nothingness that shot straight at him so rapidly he only saw them as flashes of white light as he frantically leapt to the side. His leap turned into a run as Ryoko thrust her right arm out to the side again and, a sphere of white light hovering just below her hand, renewed the barrage of conjured metal lances with machinegun-like intensity.

"Speed and reflexes of designated target exceed three positive standard deviations of range observed in species homo sapiens," Ryoko crooned sweetly, her voice somehow carrying over the sounds of massive property damage as her attacks smashed into storefronts and carved out furrows in the asphalt street. "Well done, Hibiki Ryouga. This is 314.159% more fun than observing a static subject!"

Ryouga blinked but didn't dare take his eyes off his opponent as he dashed and dodged in a rough circle around her, barely staying ahead of the unremitting onslaught. Neither Ryoko's words, her fighting style, or this battle were making much sense to him. Initially Ryoko hadn't seemed like much of a threat and it had been child's play to keep her at bay with a few well-aimed strikes, and if it hadn't been for her irritating vanishing technique the fight would have been over within minutes. But then Ryoko had gotten faster and started pulling more knives and later spears from thin air than he suspected even Mousse kept hidden in his robes, and from the looks of things that was only the beginning of her bag of tricks. Despite the high level of skill her techniques implied, though, her actual combat style was fairly simple and barely above what he'd expect from an untrained opponent.

_So she's someone who relies on special techniques to the exclusion of the basics. Maybe she's using an artifact or gimmick like the Mark of the Gods for her powers? Or perhaps she's simply toying with me and isn't bothering to display her true skill. At this point I'm not sure which I'd prefer. _

Grunting unhappily at the sense that he wasn't being taken seriously, Ryouga flung his umbrella away from him in a circular arc. The parasol's canopy opened immediately and the umbrella spun like a top as it traveled through the air. Both hands now free, the Lost Boy grabbed two headbands from his head and infused the articles of yellow and black cloth with his ki. Simultaneously, he leapt into the air as half a dozen shining lances tore through the spot he'd just occupied, pushed off a lamppost with his feet to change his trajectory, and in the heartbeat of a second it took for Ryoko to re-aim her barrage hurled both bandanas-now stiff as iron and sharp as a razor-at the ball of light underneath her right hand.

Ryoko's azure eyes widened almost imperceptibly at the sight of the formerly harmless cloth projectiles, and her right hand twitched as she sent a wave of lances at the bandanas. The two sets of weapons met with a loud clang in the distance between the pair of fighters. Two bandanas and two spears fell to the ground while the rest of Ryoko's assault continued unimpeded but, as they were not aimed specifically at Ryouga, the fanged martial artist found himself with an opening to maneuver around them and enter Ryoko's guard. His umbrella returned to his ready hands just as he came within striking distance, and he closed and swung the parasol at his opponent with lightning fast speed.

Ryoko evaded the attack entirely by vanishing again and instantaneously reappeared behind Ryouga with another combat knife in hand, but this time the Lost Boy was prepared. Converting the force of his umbrella swing into a body spin, he turned around, crouched underneath Ryoko's knife thrust, and poked the ground at their feet with his right index finger. A part of him felt bad about using this technique to hurt a girl, but Ryoko really wasn't giving him much choice.

"Bakusai Tenketsu!"

Ryouga was denied the satisfaction of seeing the brief flash of surprise on Ryoko's face as the ground beneath their feet detonated, but he heard her grunt at the bombardment of concrete shrapnel and moved to take advantage by raising a leg to launch a devastating knee kick at her abdomen. To his double-surprise, though, Ryoko not only moved an arm with preternatural speed and accuracy to block the attack despite the rocky smokescreen but wasn't even pushed back by his inhuman strength. A second later a spinning kick that felt far too powerful to belong to the dainty leg delivering it connected with the side of his chest, launching him sideways through the air.

The wandering martial artist crashed into a wall on the opposite side of the street but, none the worse for wear thanks to his monstrous constitution, immediately got to his feet and assumed a cautious defensive stance. His brown eyes narrowed as he watched the dust cloud he'd just been ejected from fall back to earth, waiting for any sign of his opponent within and her next move. What he saw when the cloud finally cleared, though, filled even his battle-seasoned heart with dread.

Ryoko stood confidently across from him, friendly smile still on her face and a contrastingly _unfriendly_ combat knife held tightly in her right hand. Neither her clothing nor her body showed any signs of having been harmed by the earlier explosion of shrapnel. And behind her and a step to the left was another, perfectly identical Ryoko, and behind the clone and two steps to the right was yet another mirror image of the schoolgirl ninja.

"Looks like things are about to get serious," Ryouga muttered with a despondent sigh, tightening his grip on his umbrella as he took a step forward to enter the melee that was about to begin.

**"Shall we dance?" the three ninjas asked as one, each bowing eloquently once before rushing towards their opponent so quickly that each mirror image left an after-image!**

**Ryouga ducked and weaved as the space around him filled with pretty blue-haired schoolgirls and combat knives, every part an equal dance partner in this deadly dance of deathly danger. Hands, wrists, arms, knees, ankles, feet; every part of his body became a shield as he parried each and every knife thrust, turning, twisting, and tumbling at impossible angles. Faster and faster the daggers came, and faster and faster the wanderer moved to deflect them until ninjas and martial artist became indistinguishable from each other! **

**As ferocious as Ryoko's offense was, though, Ryouga's defense was better and proved impenetrable to the ninja girl. So, once again whispering ominous incantations in a secret ninja language, Ryoko used her dark ninja powers to paralyze the martial artist's body!**

"I would have done this from the very beginning, but it would have been counter-productive to data collection," Ryoko stated in a tone that was bizarrely both matter-of-fact and incredibly kind. The mirror images had disappeared the instant Ryouga found himself unable to move his body and now his one and only opponent stood before him, cutely twiddling her combat knife in her hands.

"Because of your performance, I've concluded that you are definitely not an ordinary human. Your physical statistics far exceed the baseline for your species, and you've displayed limited data manipulation abilities as well. The Data Integration Thought Entity is-"

_This is...not fair_, Ryouga thought to himself as Ryoko's explanation became indistinguishable from jargon to him. _I was finally...cured. This was supposed to be…the turning point in my life._

Had his struggles all been for nothing? His quest to defeat Ranma, his love for Akane, his never-ending journey on the road trying to find his way; had it all been pointless? Worse yet, was the cure he thought would finally change his life for the better actually responsible for the end of it? If he were still cursed there was a good chance he'd be a piglet right now and would have never run into this assassin tonight. He was going to die, and all because he could finally live a life free from Jusenkyo?

"It seems a waste not to probe your abilities further, but we both have our assigned roles and I'm confident they'll be more data for me to observe later. We-"

Despair rose up from the black pit of negative sentiments that ate away at the Eternally Lost Boy's heart like a cancer even as it sustained him. Ryouga knew this emotion, knew it like an old and constant friend, and knew how to use it.

"So now, whether you mind or not, please die."

_Akane_.

**The ninja raised her knife for a fatal strike, the weapon glowing with an unctuously unholy and unnatural light, but she was never given the chance to lower it as the martial artist's battle aura suddenly erupted around him like a volcano making up for lost time. Heavy, vitriolic ki slammed into Ryoko with the force of a shot down UFO, knocking her back several yards. It was all the drop dead gorgeous and currently in serious danger ninja schoolgirl could do to remain on her feet as her opponent's explosive life-force buffeted her, pressing down and splitting the street under its enormous pressure like something out of Dragonball before that series jumped the shark!**

**And then, the surging battle aura having dispelled the drop dead gorgeous and currently immobilized ninja schoolgirl's paralysis over him, Hibiki Ryouga **_**moved**_** and prepared to unleash his ultimate attack!**

The Eternally Lost Boy's melancholic green aura vibrated to the beat of his sorrow-filled heart as he brought the roiling, writhing array of ki surrounding him under tentative control. And then, standing still with the grim resolve of one who has embraced despair and is ready to take that one decisive, dangerous step forward, he turned haunted brown eyes accusingly at the night sky and shouted the words to unleash the anguish that thrived deep within his soul.

"Perfect ShiShiHoukoudan!"

A pillar of acidic green light shot up from his frame and rose as if to strike god himself, parting the clouds and bathing the world below in its baleful, haunting luminescence. For a single instant time stood still, transfixed, as one man supported the weight of his own surging despair given form, but finally Ryouga reached the point where there was nothing left but emptiness within his heart, time resumed its normal course, and the power the Lost Boy had releashed into the sky succumbed to gravity and returned to the earth below with a vengeance.

Ryouga saw his attack swallow the block he stood on, filling the whole street and only just sparing the buildings and walls that stood on either side from its devastation. He heard a boom that sounded like heaven's wrath as the ki attack tore into the earth and carved out a crater beneath his feet with him at the epicenter. He felt the air, charged and saturated with his aura, sting and assail him as the brilliant light of the Perfect ShiShiHoukoudan finally faded, leaving utter destruction in its wake.

Ryouga saw and heard and felt all this, but he did not care. He was numb inside, insensate, and left with only a faint sense of purpose that nevertheless drove him on. Slowly, as if waking from a dream, he surveyed the desolation around him in search of the one who'd driven him to such desperation and despair. For nearly a full minute he saw no signs of her and began to wonder if she was buried under the rubble, but then-although there was no flash or sound to give her away-he sensed her appear a few feet behind him on the shattered street. He turned wearily to face her and was unsurprised to see her both unharmed and still wearing that disturbingly gentle smile.

**The ninja and martial artist stood still, barely more than a yard apart at the heart of their devastated battlefield, and silently appraised the other. Both had given their all, fighting with body, mind, and soul as one, and through it they had gained an intimate understanding of their counterpart...and in Ryoko's case, perhaps something more as well.**

**Face flushed and heart beating for reasons that had little to do with physical exertion, the ninja schoolgirl watched her target with a sense of uncharacteristic hesitation. This martial artist's-no, this young**_** man's**_** warrior spirit was **_**marvelous**_**! Fighting him made her feel more alive than she had felt in what seemed like ages, and did she really want it to end? Finish the job and return to a passionless life of duty? As a professional ninja she knew she'd regret **_**not**_** completing her assignment, but wasn't it better to do something and regret it than regret **_**not**_** doing something? And then there was the way his gaze on her made her feel... **

**Ryoko shook her head to clear it of all doubts, her blue hair fanning out behind her like rippling water. What she said and did next could change the rest of her life, and in times like this it was best to listen to your inner self and do what you instinctively knew to be right.**

**Slowly and with unmistakable intent, the ninja pointed her knife at her target.**

**"Hibiki Ryouga," Ryoko said calmly, her voice filled with resolve. "It is time for you to-"**

"-treat me to dinner!" Ryoko finished cheerfully, her knife literally vanishing into thin air as she walked over to Ryouga with a friendly nonchalance completely at odds with how she'd just spent the better part of twenty minutes trying to kill him.

The Eternally Lost Boy blinked, and his jaw dropped in utter shock. He hadn't thought it possible but this whole night was now making even less sense that it had a few minutes ago, and there was really only one thing he could think of to say in response to Ryoko's new ultimatum.

"Are you absolutely _certain_ you don't have me confused with Ranma?"

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

"So let me get this straight," I said skeptically, gazing at the excited SOS Brigade Chief with an exasperated expression on my face that she seemed oblivious to. "Ryoko wanted to kill Ryouga a minute ago in your story, and now she wants to date him? Isn't that transition...oh, I don't know...a little _sudden_?"

Haruhi looked at me as if I'd said something incredibly stupid. I receive that look a lot from her.

"Geez, Kyon, don't you know anything about anything? Teenage martial artists are ruled by their emotions and are as likely to kill each other as make-out in battle. They live life to its fullest, consequences and reason be damned!"

Reason? Try suspension of disbelief. Yare yare.

Koizumi, who was reading his own copy of Haruhi's story draft, chuckled and turned to beam his annoyingly picture perfect smile our way.

"Very clever set-up, Miss Suzumiya, but I'm afraid I'm at a loss who the main antagonist is supposed to be. I don't suppose you'd be willing to illuminate me?"

Smiling, Haruhi rose from her chair at the front of the room and walked over to the marker board with enthusiastic steps. Asahina, now garbed in sarashi and a short cotton yukata, looked up from where she was pouring Nagato a cup of tea to hear my classmate's next words, and Nagato put aside her book. Even I found my interest piqued. What new threat would the SOS Brigade face down behind Haruhi's back this time? An ancient demon who needed Hibiki's blood to break its seal? An international crime syndicate seeking to blackmail Hibiki's parents by kidnapping their son? An evil martial arts cult?

Completely ignorant of the growing suspense, Haruhi finally stopped in front of the marker board and turned to make her big announcement.

"Antagonist? Ha, who needs an antagonist when you have crazy martial artists instead!" she said unexpectedly, pointing at the two names written on the white board with a flourish. "There'll be a big bad to force the heroes to exercise teeth-clenched teamwork at the end, but that's simply to give the main cast something to do other than try to kill and date each other. And speaking of rivals, I think it's time I added the obligatory ancient family feud rival/secondary love interest! I just need a motif to use, so let's see...what would be the worst enemy of a wandering martial artist?"

I gave a sarcastic answer without thinking and immediately regretted it when I saw the way Haruhi looked at me: a brief flash of astonishment followed by serious contemplation and then pleasant surprise. Gods, what have I done?

"Not bad, Kyon. I suppose even _you_ are bound to have a good idea every once in a blue moon. Now for the name..."

Haruhi turned back to the marker board and began to test out names, muttering quietly as she wrote down kanji, sounded out the syllables and meanings, erased, and tried again. I watched her for a few more seconds and then sighed and sat back down at the table, sending a silent prayer Hibiki's way. I would have to speak with my fellow club members sans Haruhi later to learn what effect her writing was having on reality, but if any of this madness was trickling back to the actual Hibiki Ryouga I felt sorry for the guy. Unless he'd been living in a weirdness sink for the past year, there was no way he could possibly be prepared for Haruhi's crazy high jinks.

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

The young woman kneeled beside her grandfather's sickbed, tears streaming down her face despite her best efforts to remain composed. Dressed in a floral purple kimono and pink obi, she appeared the very embodiment of classic Japanese beauty with silky black hair cut hime style, matching eyes, smooth light-toned skin, and willowy frame but possessed one very noticeable deviation from the ideal: a distractingly pneumatic bosom at war with gravity.

"Grand...granddaughter."

The voice was withered and weary but still held traces of the immense authority the man it belonged to once wielded, and hearing it the young woman immediately wiped her tears with the right sleeve of her kimono and reached over the bed to hold the old man's desiccated hands in her own.

"Yes, I'm still here, grandfather, but you should sl-sl-sleep," she said with a forced smile, her voice thick with barely controlled emotion. "You need your rest if you're going to get b-b-better."

The old man slowly shook his head with great effort, silently telling her that he knew better, and opened his eyes to gaze at her. They were brown and clear and, alone of all his body, their strength had not dimmed with time.

"Please, for-...forgive me, Kaeda, for my inconvenient illness," he whispered pleadingly. "I had hoped to settle accounts and remove the stain on our family honor before the responsibility fell to you...but it appears that...heaven has other plans. I am...sorry and deeply regret leaving you with this burden to bear, my precious...granddaughter."

Now it was the girl's-Kaeda-turn to shake her head. "No! You will recover, grandfather! I have faith. My mother and I still need you, and there's still so much for you to teach me-"

"You...require no more training," Kaeda's grandfather interrupted with unmistakable pride. "You already know...that which you need. So please...don't dwell on me. You and your mother...have both made me so happy, and even though my heart grieves that I won't see the family honor restored in my lifetime...when the end comes my guilt will at least be partially assuaged knowing that you will finally settle our ancient family debt with the Hibikis after I'm gone."

At these words a series of powerful emotions flashed across Kaeda's face too fast for any to be clearly deciphered until finally there was only resolution tinged with devotion. Releasing her hold on her grandfather's hands, she stood up and gazed down at him determinedly.

"When you join our ancestors in the afterlife it will be proudly bearing the message that our family honor has been restored thanks to your training! I _will_ find and settle accounts with the Hibikis so that you can die with no regrets, so don't give up until then! Please!"

A single tear trailed down the old man's wrinkled face. "Kaeda...I...I can't promise but...I'll try..."

Kaeda nodded firmly. "I'll hold you to it. Jeeves, my battledress if you please!"

The out of place English-style butler who'd been standing silently and unobtrusively at the door to the room dutifully stepped forward with the traditional raiment of the family he served held in his arms. Inclining her head slightly in thanks, Kaeda seized the clothes and walked with purpose behind the seven panel shoji screen on the other side of the room to change, leaving the butler alone with his master. The family servant took advantage of the momentary privacy to look down at the older man with a hint of mild reproach.

"You really shouldn't pretend to be so sick, my lord," Jeeves whispered disapprovingly. "I know you only want what's best for the young master, but this is a bit extreme even for you."

The old man chuckled quietly with a healthy timbre to his voice that hadn't been there a minute ago. "Heh heh. Extreme? Trust me; compared to _my_ father's training methods I'm being downright gentle. It'll all work out for the best so don't worry. Kaeda's the most promising student the family has seen in generations, and I'm determined to have her unlock her true potential. And-psst! She's coming out now so try to look nobly concerned!"

Kaeda stepped out from behind the shoji screen and turned to face her grandfather, her entire body radiating determination and now dressed in her family's traditional battle raiment...which in her case happened to be a sharp black business skirt suit with a matching tie, black sunglasses, and a legal briefcase held in her right hand.

"Sato Kaeda of the Edo School of Martial Arts Tax Collection is on the clock!" she announced, standing at attention and saluting her grandfather. "No tax delinquent shall escape my sight, and I vow to collect the back taxes the Hibikis owe and deliver the appropriate state-sanctioned punishment!"

The dramatic bolt of lightning outside that accompanied this declaration was, in Jeeves's opinion, completely unnecessary and more befitting a work of juvenile fiction than a solemn family promise.

* * *

><p>Author's Notes: An original character in one of my stories? [Insert surprised gasp!] As frightening as this development may be, do not panic. I have plans to fill out the rest of the main cast with familiar faces who may or may not be pleased to find themselves entangled in Haruhi's madness. As for Sato Kaeda and Martial Arts Tax Collection, please let me know if either is not original. I deliberately chose a common surname and personal name and would not be surprised if there's another fictional character out there somewhere with the same combination, and I have a suspicion that I've come across Martial Arts Tax Collection somewhere in the Ranma ½ fandom before and forgot about it.<p>

Also, before somebody points it out, I already know that in a true fight Ryouga would stand a ghost of a chance (if even that) against Ryoko. The only reason he lasted as long as he did here was because she wasn't putting in a full effort, and this will be explained in the next chapter.

Anyway, in addition to being a sucker for cute, I also chose to write this particular story rather than some of the other ideas I had because of the opportunity it presented to explore different types of writing. First, there's Kyon's first person narration which is an interesting challenge to get a handle on. I read Elizabeth Kostova's novel The Historian not too long ago and was very impressed by how skillfully she employed first-person narration, and it gave me a desire to try it out myself. I still have a long ways to go, both in terms of writing from a first-person perspective and in getting Kyon's snarkiness up to an appropriate level, but so far it's been a lot of fun.

Secondly, there's the challenge of trying to write as someone else which is compounded by that someone else probably having a flamboyant, over-the-top, and frenetic writing style at odds in many ways with how I normally write. Some of the most difficult passages for me in this chapter were those that are "written" by Haruhi, and even with the unnecessary exclamation marks and excessive alliteration I still feel that these passages are too tame. I'm hoping to do a better job in future chapters and that this experiment will improve my writing skills in other ways, but only time will tell.

At any rate, thanks again for reading.


	3. Refreshment!

Title: Haruhi vs Hibiki

Teaser: A chance meeting between Suzumiya Haruhi and Hibiki Ryouga results in the Eternally Lost Boy becoming the main character in Haruhi's school writing assignment. Now, with Asakura Ryoko as his co-star, he has to survive Haruhi's storytelling long enough to save the world.

Author: Rowan Seven

Rating: PG-13 to be safe.

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 was created by Takahashi Rumiko. The Suzumiya Haruhi series was created by Tanigawa Nagaru. I make no legal claims to the characters, settings, and concepts featured in this story and am not profiting financially from this work of fan fiction.

* * *

><p>Chapter 3: Refreshment - Kuonji Ukyo and Her Restaurant of Wonders!<p>

The Literary Club room where the SOS Brigade holds its daily meetings is sorely lacking in certain respects. Despite hosting conversations that can affect the entire planet, there is no video-phone with world leaders on speed-dial, no wall monitors displaying real-time satellite feeds of burgeoning crises, and no sealed envelope containing keys to a titanium vault where an emergency all-purpose contingency plan codenamed the Alpha Protocol, Omega Directive, or similarly uninspired Greek motif is housed. There isn't even an oversized world map on the table for us to hover over anxiously and point dramatically at, though that's probably a good thing since Haruhi would surely draw in Atlantis somewhere.

So what do we have on hand instead to deal with the monster and/or mystery of the week summoned forth from the unknowing imagination of our fearless leader? Board games, cosplay costumes, holiday decorations, and a tea maker. Nothing that would actually be useful in the event of a robot takeover, zombie apocalypse, or alien invasion, but at least we'll be able to entertain ourselves in the last few minutes before nuclear fire rains down from the sky.

Yeah, I'm feeling _real good_ right now.

"My, you're looking unusually distressed. And here I thought it was my job to worry about the dangers of Miss Suzumiya's powers," Koizumi remarked with a wry smile as he fingered one of his white game pieces and considered where to place it on the Othello board.

I shrugged, my eyes drawn of their own volition away from Koizumi's ever-present grin to the much more pleasant sight of the lovely Miss Asahina brewing tea in the clubroom's back corner. Haruhi had kept the sarashi but switched out the time traveler's yukata for a kendo keigoki robe and hakama trousers earlier today before leaving with Nagato in tow to make more unreasonable demands of our long-suffering Computer Club neighbors. It wasn't quite as breathtaking as the Santa Claus outfit but, at this point, I considered the martial arts cosplay the sole bright spot of this whole mess.

"I think Asakura being involved entitles me to an exception here, and while I'm resigned by this point to Haruhi's madness infecting my life I feel a bit differently when it makes serious trouble for a random stranger Haruhi met by chance."

Koizumi chuckled softly as he finally placed his white piece and flipped over one of my blacks to secure the top right corner of the board. Damn you smiling esper boy!

"You truly believe you and Miss Suzumiya met this Hibiki Ryouga by chance?" he questioned with a skeptical shake of his head. "Personally, I'm surprised that you're surprised by this. Miss Suzumiya wanted to be inspired and wanted an idea different from her usual interests, and what happens? A lost martial artist just so happens to be in the right place at the right time to cross her path. I'd hardly call that a coincidence."

Can't we? I'd hate to think that Haruhi is dislocating people over 300 miles now just to give her even more crazy ideas. She already has enough of them without extra help to win the internet. Or are you saying that Hibiki's a member of your Organization or another faction we haven't met yet?

"Neither, though I was given an interesting briefing by my superiors after reporting on yesterday's club meeting," Koizumi answered as he steepled his hands together in front of himself and waited for me to make my move. "You might have already surmised this, Kyon, but my colleagues do more than monitor Miss Suzumiya and battle Shinjin in Closed Space. The Organization also filters news to - Ah, how shall I put this? - keep certain knowledge that's of a highly fantastical but irrefutably concrete nature out of the public eye."

"Koizumi, are you telling me that you work for the Men in Black who always show up in conspiracy theories?"

"I can't comment on that, though it might be nice to own a flying Mercedes," he answered with an apologetic grin as I placed my next black disk on the board.

"Actually, -classified- aren't as much fun as you might think because of -classified-," Mikuru added as she walked over and offered each of us a cup of green tea, the good humor in her voice turning into a cute pout as the stringent restrictions that prevented her from sharing any and all information about the future kicked in.

Koizumi shot the time traveler a brief, inscrutable look as she sat down in the seat next to me but then shrugged and laughed lightly.

"Yes, well, be that as it may...one matter that my associates cover up is the existence of a number of martial artists of the type you'd normally ascribe to the pages of shounen manga in Tokyo's Nerima ward. Apparently they're responsible for no end of property damage and other highly visible exploits and keep the Organization's Tokyo branch quite busy."

I sighed. "Actual shounen martial artists? _Really_? And here I thought it would be a slider who appeared next."

Koizumi made a vague gesture with his right hand as he placed another white disk on the board. "Miss Suzumiya may be primarily interested in aliens, time travelers, espers, and sliders, but if my superiors' theory is correct and she did make this version of the world a little over 3 years ago...well, I'm sure you can imagine what source materials her subconscious might have drawn inspiration from."

"...Gods, if a magical girl shows up I'm calling it quits."

A contemplative expression rapidly crossed and then vanished from Miss Asahina's face as I said this, and she turned to Koizumi questioningly.

"And Hibiki is...um, he's a member of this Nerima martial arts cohort?" Miss Asahina asked hesitantly, her forehead creased pensively.

Pausing for a short moment before answering, Koizumi nodded, his smile still irritatingly fixed on his face. "Indeed. My superiors gave me an extensive overview of his background last night but withheld everything recent. Apparently there's a consensus that sharing information with us about how Miss Suzumiya's story is playing out in reality poses a risk to the timeline as 'our' present and her short story's 'present' grow increasingly distant. But that's your faction's area of expertise, Miss Asahina, so I'm sure you know more about this than I do."

"That's -classified-," Miss Asahina answered quickly, uneasy about being put on the spot like that. "But I do know someone in -classified- who might be able to help. I'll make the request using -classified- and if -classified- approves I'll let you two know."

Ah Miss Asahina, I love the sound of your voice but there are times when you'd make the Liberal Democratic Party proud of how much you're able to say without saying anything at all.

The club's door swung open and banged loudly against the wall as Haruhi marched in dramatically with a happy smile on her face and, giving the three of us at the table only the briefest of acknowledgements, rushed over to the marker board. Nagato followed quietly behind her a moment later with her typically stoic expression and a stack of printouts held in her arms. My eyes darted from Haruhi to Nagato back to Haruhi just in time to see the former finish adding a new name to the cast list.

**Kuonji Ukyo - cute battle chef.**

"A battle chef, Haruhi? Isn't that a little far-fetched?"

"No more than a battle waitress, Kyon, and that's already been done!" the Brigade Chief answered smugly as she turned to face us, conveniently omitting _who_ it had been done by. "And if you want to succeed in fiction you have to stay ahead of the curve. If somebody else writes a story where an android goes back in time to change the future and an elite soldier follows to stop him, then up the ante by writing a story where an android goes back in time to change the future and an elite soldier follows to stop him before the two enemies team up to defeat a cybernetic dragon invading from dimension X!"

What's that sound I hear? I think it's James Cameron laughing at us from the other side of the Pacific Ocean.

"Kuonji Ukyo? That's a lovely name," Koizumi spoke up with a hint of recognition in his brown eyes and a brief glance at the printouts Nagato was carrying. "What made you choose it?"

Haruhi smiled brilliantly and gestured at Nagato to pass out the top sheets of paper in her stack, answering Koizumi's question as the alien efficiently complied.

"I had our IT department research Nerima for me to enhance the verisimilitude of my story, and apparently the ward has become famous recently for the quality of its restaurants. Since I needed a setting for Asakura and Hibiki's date I had them investigate more, and when I saw this online flyer"—She retrieved a sheet of paper identical to the ones in front us from a pocket and unfolded it—"the restaurant's owner was _too cute_ for me not to use!"

Sparing a brief thought to reflect once again on the dangers of posting photos on the internet, I turned away from Haruhi and looked down at the printed flyer Nagato had handed out. The paper showed the front of a restaurant advertised as 'Okonomiyaki Ucchan's' with the owner standing at the door with a welcoming hand extended and a friendly smile on her round face. She was tall with long brown hair tied back with a white bow, dressed in a short-sleeved blue blouse and form-fitting black pants, radiated confidence, and—I was forced to agree with Haruhi on this—very cute. Not as cute as Miss Asahina, of course, since even daring to think that thought would make me a traitor, but still very cute. She also had a bandolier of spatulas strapped across her chest, and while I assumed those were for show inside the restaurant I could see how they would give the Brigade Chief the battle chef idea.

"The Kuonji character...how does she, er, interact with the rest of the cast? She's not also trying to kill Hibiki, is she?" Miss Asahina asked nervously, a worried expression on her face.

Haruhi shook her head and sighed disappointedly at the question.

"Really, Mikuru, as a former battle waitress you of all people should know better. No true battle chef would dedicate herself to hunting someone down over a vendetta when there are epic culinary battles to be won against rival restaurants in league with the forces of evil and malevolent fast food corporations!"

As much as I hate to admit it, the thought of this Kuonji kicking down the front door of a McDonald's and challenging their clown mascot to an epic kung fu duel is kind of cool. Totally implausible, but still cool. Haruhi must be rubbing off on me.

"Besides, I need to expand the female cast anyway by adding the sane best friend who doesn't realize she's in love with the male protagonist, so why not kill two birds with one stone? Kuonji's perfect for this role!"

...Wait a moment. Asakura Ryoko, primary love interest? Sato Kaeda, secondary love interest? Kuonji Ukyo, tertiary love interest? Dear gods, Haruhi's writing the plot for a harem manga!

"Kyon, get your face off the table! It's okay to fall down in awe at my brilliance, but if you're going to knock yourself out do it on your own time!"

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

**It was quiet inside Okonomiyaki Ucchan's. Too quiet, and the restaurant's owner did not like the quiet. To Kuonji Ukyo—rising star of the culinary world and battle chef extraordinaire—her restaurant was inextricably linked to her heart and soul; when Ucchan's was full and filled with happy, chatting customers she felt alive, and when it was empty with only the tremulous susurrations of ingredients and kitchenware pleading to be used she felt cold and barren inside.**

_**Have the enemies of justice and independent local restaurants struck again, luring away my customers with a devious hypnotic jingle or dastardly addictive artificial food sweetener?**_**, the battle chef wondered as she stood behind her store's counter, equally ready to whip up an okonomiyaki as she was to defend herself against a sneak attack launched by corporate fast food delivery ninjas. Her brow creased in consternation as another, unhappy thought occurred to her.**

_**Or has my mastery of the ways of the battle chef reached the point where my heart not only reflects my restaurant but my restaurant reflects my heart too? Has my dedication left me hollow inside, empty outside of my commitment to my restaurant and the ancient art of culinary combat? Do I have a life beyond that of the battle chef? **_

**The sound of a bell ringing as the door to Ucchan's opened snapped the female chef out of her melancholic introspections. Donning a smile as she turned to greet the customer, Ukyo felt her grin brighten and her heart warm when she realized who it was. Hibiki Ryouga was a good friend of hers, a valued customer, and **_**always**_** welcome in her restaurant. Just as quickly as it had come, though, her good mood vanished and a strange pang she dared not name seized her chest when she saw that her **_**good**_** and **_**dear**_** friend was not alone. **

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

Ukyo blinked. Then she blinked again and pinched herself. When that still didn't dispel the strange and previously unbelievable sight of the Eternally Lost Boy standing hand-in-hand with an incredibly cute girl who was not Ranma in disguise she concluded that she wasn't dreaming (A pity, really, since if it was just a dream the lack of business tonight wouldn't be so annoying) and decided she'd better get to the bottom of this. For all his _many_ faults Ryouga probably had a better shot at Akane than any of the Tendo girl's other regular suitors and she did not want to stoop to trying to set Akane up with Kuno. That would be wrong on so many levels it made her head hurt even thinking about it.

"Long time no see, Ryouga! If you're looking for directions to get to your duel with Ranma, don't bother. You'll just get lost on the way so I'll lead you there myself later once I've closed down for the night. You and your friend might as well stay until then." Turning to the blue-haired girl who was watching everything with kindly azure eyes and a pleasant smile on her face, Ukyo bowed politely and introduced herself.

"Kuonji Ukyo, proud owner of the best okonomiyaki restaurant in Nerima. Pleased to meet you, and I can personally guarantee that everything on the menu is delicious so feel free to make an order whenever you like."

The unfamiliar girl's smile brightened and she inclined her head in return. "Asakura Ryoko, and I'll be sure to take you up on your offer. I wasn't expecting it to be so hard to lead Ryouga to your restaurant when he recommended it, but the effort will be worth it if your okonomiyaki is even half as good as he claims it is. His treat, of course, since I guided him here."

Ryouga, whose face was fixed in a scowl that contrasted sharply with Ryoko's smile, grumbled unhappily.

"Leading me here was the _least_ you could do after trying to kill me," he said angrily before adding in a more embarrassed, hesitant voice, "Oh, and you can...um...let go of my hand now. I'm...uh, pretty sure I don't need your help to get around inside Ucchan's."

Ukyo tensed at the revelation that the girl—Asakura, she reminded herself—was a would-be murderess but relaxed an instant later when Asakura laughed and shook her head in amusement, seemingly dismissing Ryouga's claim. The Lost Boy must have been joking, the chef reasoned to herself. This girl didn't look like a martial artist and wasn't projecting any battle aura at all, and—

"Oh Ryouga, I do apologize for exaggerating my intentions for dramatic effect during our first meeting. I wasn't _actually_ trying to kill you, you see; the ninja contract I accepted specifically requested that you be brought in alive. Preferably beaten to within an inch of your life first, true, but the wording was quite clear on the need for you to still be breathing."

Ukyo did a double-take and reexamined the self-professed ninja who, she noted with an odd sense of irritation, was still holding the Lost Boy's left hand. There was something unnerving about the contrast between the words she said and the way she spoke without a hint of insincerity or irony in her voice. Moreover, Asakura was apparently skilled enough to completely mask her martial arts training, and that more than anything else told Ukyo not to take her lightly.

"Those spears looked deadly enough to me," Ryouga grumbled before sighing once in what sounded like resignation and turning his attention to Ukyo. "Sorry to trouble you like this, Ukyo. I know how busy you usually are"—the Lost Boy's gaze inadvertently wandered to the rest of the restaurant, empty except for the three of them, but he politely didn't comment further—"but would it be possible for you to fit Asakura and me in at one of your tables? She's promised an explanation in exchange for the meal, and I would _really_ like to know why someone like her tried to ki-...I mean, 'viciously attack' me."

"We would both truly appreciate it," Ryoko added affably. "Cooking and conversation make excellent companions, after all. And please," she said, turning her head to address the Lost Boy with a hint of good-natured admonishment in her tone, "you can call me Ryoko, Ryouga. I think we've reached the point in our _relationship_ where we can use first names."

The okonomiyaki chef felt herself bristle at the way Ryoko trilled the word 'relationship' (Gods, the girl was being about as subtle as Shampoo there) but let it slide without further remark. Business was business, and while Ucchan's was a small restaurant with most of the seating at the counter and only a few side tables it wasn't as if any of those settings were being used right now.

"Sure, sit wherever you like," Ukyo agreed casually as she reached for one of the spatulas in her bandolier and held it up proudly. "Simply let me know what your order is when you're ready and I'll have it prepared and served within minutes. No fighting inside the restaurant, though, if it's all the same to you," she added, narrowing her eyes warningly at Ryoko. "I don't particularly want to pay for repairs."

Ryoko met her gaze and chuckled cryptically once before leading Ryouga over to table at the restaurant's front right corner. Ukyo watched them both carefully as they moved and sat down, Ryouga's posture equal parts wary, nervous, and annoyed, and Ryoko with perfect serenity.

_I'd better keep an eye on those two_, she thought to herself. _Ryouga's gullible enough that not even attempted murder will stop him from being tricked by a pretty face, and something's not right about that Asakura girl. What secret is she hiding?_

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

**Love was in the air as Ryouga and Ryoko gazed at each other over their incredibly delicious and reasonably priced okonomiyaki made from the highest quality of fresh, all natural ingredients grown and raised locally in Japan. After all, he was a ruggedly handsome wandering martial artist and she was a charmingly beautiful ninja schoolgirl, and it was only natural that such an awesome pair of absolutely awesome and good-looking warriors would be attracted to each other. **

**However, despite this bright and promising beginning all was not well. The cute battle chef Ukyo watched the two from behind her grill with a conflicted, guarded expression on her face, strange feelings stirring in her generous bosom as her heart twisted inside. Far away but drawing closer, the driven Sato Kaeda approached on her quest to settle old debts. And more immediate and personal, Ryoko struggled with whether to reveal her deepest, most closely guarded secret. **

_**Should I reveal my deepest, most closely guarded secret?**_**, she thought fretfully, wondering how the wandering martial artist would react if he learned the truth about her. She knew that if she wanted a lasting relationship—and she did, if the beating of her heat and rosy blush on her cheeks were any indication!—she needed to be honest, but maybe it would be wiser to let Ryouga get to know her better first? Then again, they were both martial artists and could die at any moment at the hands of other martial artists in battles of legendary but deadly skill and awesomeness, and wouldn't it be for the best for both her and Ryouga if she determined here and now whether there could be anything more than an awkward one-night battle between them? **

**"Ah, Ryouga?" she spoke hesitantly but drew strength from the intensity of his brown eyes on her. That was a gaze she wanted to stay on her. Forever. **

**"I don't know the best way to put this, but...well, I'm an alien."**

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

"So...let me get this straight," Ryouga said skeptically after Ryoko had finished the first part of her explanation. She watched him patiently from the other side of the table. "You"—he pointed a finger at Ryoko—"are an 'artificial' human who was created by a 'data' alien to observe a real life human who has evolved the powers of a god? And this human who I"—he pointed at himself now—"allegedly met yesterday is unknowingly warping reality around me because of a story she's writing?"

Ryoko nodded her head in confirmation, apparently pleased by her companion's seeming comprehension. "Exactly! I'm glad you understand."

"I don't," Ryouga rebutted, feeling slightly guilty at the disappointed expression that crossed the girl's cherubic face even though it was her own fault for telling such far-fetched tales. Really, humanoid data interface? Auto-evolution? What did any of that mean, and what did it have to do with trying to kill him?

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "I've seen many incredible things, but even by my standards what you've said staggers belief. I can accept that, maaaaybe, you're an alien even though you don't look like one. Aliens probably aren't any unlikelier than Chinese animal men or ghost cats, and I've met both. I can even accept that—just possibly—a teenage girl has unknowingly gained the powers of a god, though I think a fallen goddess trapped inside a mortal body with her memories sealed away and powers slowly awakening makes more sense than your crazy evolution theory."

The Lost Boy nodded once quickly, feeling slightly reassured as he shifted the conversation to a framework he was familiar with. After all, why attempt to rationalize a mysterious phenomenon with science when there was a perfectly good mystical explanation available? And if humans could evolve into gods wouldn't there be people running around with retractable claws and heat vision first as some sort of intermediary stage? The thought of that was simply laughable and only emphasized just how absurd Ryoko's story was. And besides, he had another reason to doubt everything she'd just told him.

"Even accepting all that, though, I can't possibly believe that _anyone_ with even a semblance of a right mind would find me interesting enough to star in a story," Ryouga continued with a self-deprecating chuckle, his laughter equal parts incredulous and bitter. "You don't know me well, but my life has been...'tragic comedy' is probably too nice a description, but 'pathetic' certainly fits. What type of story could anyone possibly write about someone who's always lost, loses repeatedly to his archrival, and can't even work up the courage to tell the gi-...those he cares about the truth? You'd have to be insane or sadistic to find anything compelling about that!"

Ryouga, his shoulders slumped, sighed morosely and looked ready to continue his tirade of woe, but Ryoko didn't let him.

"Now now, that's not a healthy attitude at all!" she said chidingly with a shake of her head that sent her lustrous blue hair waving in an enticingly eye-catching manner. "From the sound of it you see a lot of new things while traveling, and there are many people who would _kill_ for the chance to experience more than their unchanging localized environment. You should appreciate the potential for new observations in your life, and at least from my perspective you are a _very_ fascinating specimen of humanity. Not everyone can travel on foot in a day from Nishinomiya to Tokyo, after all."

"...Thanks, I think," the Lost Boy said guardedly, not sure whether to be irritated or flattered by his unusual dining companion's comments. He settled for curious.

"State of my life aside, though, every part of the story you've told me is next to unbelievable, and since you nearly killed me earlier I'm...well, a bit hesitant to take you at your word. Do you have any actual _proof_ to back up your claims?"

Ryoko remained silent for a moment, seemingly mulling over the Lost Boy's request, and reached for the teapot on the table to pour herself a cup of green tea. As she did so an idea occurred to her and she smiled.

"Perhaps a different perspective would work better?" she mused, setting her small cup of tea at the center of the table and looking at the fanged Hibiki intently. "During our altercation earlier you modified physical environmental data with a technique you called 'Bakusai Tenkatsu'. The technique functions by exercising excessively fine control over your unique internal energy flow to insert a minute projection of what you humans call 'chi' into nexus points where the separate energy flows of inorganic substances cross, thereby disrupting the flow and causing the inorganic matter to detonate. Am I correct so far?"

Ryouga's jaw dropped and he stared at Ryoko in amazement.

"H-h-how? You only saw it _once_ and you already know as much as I—"

"Your Bakusai Tenkatsu manipulates data indirectly, utilizing 'chi' controlled through a union of mind and body as an intermediary," Ryoko continued, sounding pleased with herself as she placed her left hand over the cup of tea. "Solid rock is transformed into exploding rock. This is a primitive and inefficient method that lacks fine control. The Data Integration Thought Entity and we humanoid data interfaces, in contrast, have advanced to purer methods and manipulate data directly using what you would call our minds."

The alien girl whispered something so quickly and quietly that Ryouga couldn't understand the words and then removed her hand from the tea cup. The previously warm tea was now frozen.

"I manipulated the data of the tea, shifting the molecules from a high to lower level energy state." Ryoko placed her left hand over the cup again and uttered another whisper, and when she removed it the tea was a warm liquid again. She raised the cup to her lips and took a sip, releasing a contented sigh at the taste.

"And now I did the reverse, shifting the molecules from a low to higher energy state through direct manipulation of the data. Do you understand me so far?"

"I don't know...that kind of looks like magic to me," Ryouga said uncertainly but, Ryoko was quick to note, not disbelievingly. She took that as her cue to continue.

"When the Data Integration Thought Entity and its interfaces manipulate data, neither energy nor matter is lost. We can alter and overwrite data but not destroy or create it. I can transform the tea in this cup into coffee, peach juice, or even sake but I cannot delete its data from existence or produce new data from it."

"Suzumiya Haruhi, however, can," she spoke, her blue eyes lighting up earnestly. "She has the power to not only manipulate data with her mind but actually create new data from nothing and, presumably, erase existing data as well. This ability intrigues us and could be the key to unlocking the next stage of the Data Integration Thought Entity's evolution."

Ryoko suddenly looked away, and her voice sounded melancholic with a hint of frustration as she resumed speaking. "However, for all her potential Suzumiya's active consciousness remains merely at the level of a—no offense intended—human, and the human mind in its present state of development is as unsuitable for comprehending pure data as a human infant is for reading on the day of its birth. Suzumiya's data mastery is too complex for her to consciously acknowledge, and should she become aware of it before she is able to control the power...well..."

She turned her attention back to Ryouga and smiled cheerily. "She could destroy the entire world and possibly the universe too!"

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

Haruhi stared at the Brigade's amorally appropriated computer monitor with the displeased gaze of an impatient god, her hands raised over the keyboard in the stalled act of creation. Seconds turned into a full minute as the brave plastic monitor stoically endured Haruhi's frustrated scrutiny without backing down or bursting into flames, and finally the teenage terror looked away, leaned back in her chair, and shouted her discontent to the world.

"Damn it, writing romance is hard!"

Koizumi's cellphone beeped a second after this less than earth-shattering revelation, and he rose and bowed slightly in apology after checking the text message.

"I'm terribly sorry, but there's a matter related to my part-time job that I need to attend to. I look forward to reading the next installment of the story at tomorrow's meeting."

Haruhi barely paid him any attention as the esper hurriedly collected his things and left to join his esper buddies in Closed Space, instead preferring to resume glowering at the monitor. Watching this, I raised a hand to my forehead, sighed, and decided to speak my mind even though even Wile E. Coyote would know better by now.

"Really, Haruhi, what were you expecting? That you could stick two complete strangers in a room and have them fall head over heels in love after five minutes? If that's your plan, you might as well add a song and change your story into a Disney movie script."

Predictably, Haruhi turned and narrowed her eyes crossly at me and I braced myself for her angry retort. In a sign of just how frustrated she was, though, she didn't hold my gaze and irritably looked away to focus on Nagato instead.

"Hey, Yuki, you've read more books than anyone else here. What makes the best romances you've read work?"

Wait. You're asking _Nagato_ for romantic advice? Over me and Miss Asahina? ...I don't know whether to be curious or insulted. Can I be both?

Nagato didn't quite blink as the attention of everyone remaining in the room turned to her. Lowering her book slightly, she faced us and gave a typical one word response.

"Sympathy."

"Eh? What's that got to do with anything?" Haruhi asked in surprise, apparently not expecting that answer, as Miss Asahina nodded her head in understanding from where she sat across from me. I wasn't expecting to hear that answer either but I think I know what you mean by that, Nagato, and I'd better explain it to Haruhi before she goes Spanish Inquisition on us.

"I think what Nagato is suggesting, Haruhi," I say in the same reasonable and patient tone I use when explaining to my 11 year old sister why she can't do something. It rarely works, but at least I try, "is that to write an effective romance you need to do more than establish that the two lead characters are attracted to each other. The two characters need to connect on a deeper level and find something in the other that speaks to them. They don't necessarily need to have common ground, but each should see something that strikes a chord within them."

Nagato nodded curtly, her amber eyes lingering on me for an extra half second before returning to her book. Haruhi, for her part, regarded me with an inscrutable expression on her face before abruptly spinning her chair around to face the window.

"Nobody asked you Kyon...but thanks anyway. So...sympathy, eh? Hmmm..."

Is that a 'Hmmm...maybe I should try to be more serious about this so the story isn't filled with banal clichés and more plot holes than Battlefield Earth' (Gods, why did I watch that movie again?)? Or is it a 'Hmmm...I don't know what a wandering martial artist and sociopathic alien who've known each other for less than a day could possibly see in each other so I'll make something up that's even more ridiculous than a motorized ice cream cone!'? Knowing Haruhi, probably the latter.

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

Hibiki Ryouga did not like being talked down to. Years of battling his egotistical rival had made him sensitive to every perceived slight, and his fists of steel were contrasted sharply by a heart of exceedingly brittle glass that a single well-aimed insult could shatter. He knew and hated this about himself, recognizing it as a weakness that Ranma was always quick to exploit, but it was something he had repeatedly proven unable to change.

Thus it came as something of a surprise to the Lost Boy that he was not more than mildly irritated listening to Ryoko speak about matters that were far above his head. Maybe it was the lack of condescension in her voice, the sheer preposterousness of what she was saying, or simply how distracting he found her pretty face to be, but he felt strangely unbothered by her words and the presumption of human primitiveness that underlay them. He still didn't entirely believe her but the absurdity level had reached the point where his incredulity had simply given up, and he supposed it would be just his bad luck to wind up in some unaware transcendent-human-god-child's fantasy.

"I think I follow what you've said so far...sort of," Ryouga said carefully, trying to intently watch Ryoko's expression to gauge her reactions and failing because he couldn't study her face for more than a few seconds before embarrassment forced him to look away. His nervousness almost—_almost_—made him want to ask Ranma for one of the Saotome family's secret scrolls dealing with the opposite sex, but he wasn't quite that desperate and from what he'd heard none of the scrolls had helped Ranma with Shampoo during the Reversal Jewel incident anyway.

"However, you still haven't explained how you fit into this or why you attacked me. What's your relationship to Suzumiya?"

Ryoko, who was having far less trouble watching him than he was her, chuckled softly at the question, but this time there was a weary edge to her laughter.

"I was a classmate of hers at North High," the alien said after a moment's hesitation. "An 'infiltrator,' if you will, sent by the Data Integration Thought Entity to observe Miss Suzumiya with my actions confined to a narrow set of strict operating parameters. However, as time passed I became dissatisfied with the paucity of new data being generated and sought to instigate change myself via unauthorized methods."

Sighing wistfully and setting her hands on the table, the attractive humanoid interface's face became pensive and she lowered her gaze. "Have you ever been part of a status quo that perpetuates itself and in which no one is able to attain what they most want? An unchanging static trajectory that benefits no one with no foreseeable end in sight? That's how I felt...and even though I knew my superiors would not approve and my chances for success were slim, I _had_ to do something. Even if it was reckless, even if I knew I might regret it...I chose to act, and I was stopped, and I've been on stand-by mode ever since as punishment, unable to interact with the world at all."

The alien girl's lips turned upward again in an enigmatic smile. "At least that was the case until today when Miss Suzumiya remembered my name and decided I'd make a good addition to her story. _Why_ she thinks a ninja attacking a martial artist is an excellent launching point for a story is something you'd have to take up with her, but my superiors believed having an active participant in Miss Suzumiya's newest creative endeavor was too good a data gathering opportunity to pass up and reactivated me to fill the role Miss Suzumiya envisioned. It's not exactly glamorous, but it is better than the dreadfully dull alternative of remaining on stand-by." For the briefest of moments Ryouga thought he saw a haunted look cross her face, but it came and went too quickly for him to be sure. "You might not understand, but for me the status quo is intolerable and I'd do anything to change it."

Not entirely sure why, the Lost Boy reached across the table and placed his hands over Ryoko's reassuringly. It was a spontaneous action on his part, done without thought and if he had thought about it first his hands wouldn't have made it halfway before he transformed into a nervous wreck. However, for as a little as he knew about Ryoko he did know what it felt like to be stuck and going nowhere in life—How long had he been wandering in and out of Nerima now? Sometimes it felt like years—and her words struck a chord in him.

"I...uh, for what it's worth, I think you made the right choice," Ryouga spoke quickly, his mind trying very hard to ignore just how pleasant the warmth of Ryoko's skin against his own calloused hands felt. "If there's any truth to what you've told me...well, I've done some very stupid things myself to change things and regret most of them, but not doing anything at all and _accepting_ the way things are...that's giving up, and that's even worse. And—assuming you weren't lying about our battle earlier—it's not as if you've actually tried to kill anyone, which is more than some of the people I know can say."

Ryouga wasn't sure why, but Ryoko's amused chuckle at his words sent a chill down his spine.

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

**A chill, ill, and black wind blew and a tumbleweed rolled past as Sato Kaeda stopped in front of Okonomiyaki Ucchan's and scrutinized the restaurant with dark eyes sharp enough to spot a missing decimal on a tax return five desks over. Her ancestors had pursued the Hibiki's for centuries without success but she had powerful weapons none of her forbears possessed: a smartphone and access to the internet thanks to the amazingly good bargain she'd found at the awesome and independently owned store known and celebrated as Ohmori Electronics! A quick Google search had revealed a ninja contract recently posted on the internet classifieds for this generation's scion of the Hibiki house and disclosed that he could be found in Nerima, and now that she was here asking around the local restaurants seemed like a good place to begin her own search.**

**"Hibiki, no matter where you travel or where you hide, I **_**will**_** find you and erase the black stain your family's tax delinquency has left on my family's honor so my noble grandfather can rest in peace! In the name of the National Tax Agency, I will punish you!" Kaeda vowed passionately, her right hand clenched into a fist and held over her heart while her left hand clutched a leather briefcase.**

**The well-endowed female martial artist remained in her dramatic pose for a long moment, summoning her resolve as the wind blew her long black hair dramatically behind her. Finally, she moved and, taking one determined step after another, she reached the entrance to Ucchan's and entered.**

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

Ukyo's first thought when she saw her third customer for the night was this:

_Whoa! She looks like she should be on __Highschool of the Dead__!_

Her second thought was a series of curses aimed at Hiroshi and Daisuke for recommending that series and herself for listening to them. She should have known that any anime that got those two excited would be perverted, and although she considered herself a fan of the end of the world zombie apocalypse genre she had _standards_ as a woman and the outlandishly oversized attributes of Highschool's female cast had filled her with the desire to introduce her battle spatula to the show's animators. This new girl in the black suit, though, was even better endowed than Shampoo and looked like the type of maiden you'd put in a skimpy outfit and chain to a stake as monster bait.

She put those embarrassing thoughts aside as the regal black-haired girl made a beeline for her at the counter without so much as sparing the rest of the restaurant a glance and sat down on the nearest stool. Business was a business, and having someone to talk to while Ryouga and Ryoko worked out the latter's pseudo-murder attempt would make the night go by faster. And it wasn't as if she cared what Ryouga did so long as he and Ryoko didn't fight inside her restaurant. Nope, she wasn't curious about the pair's conversation at all. Definitely not.

"Welcome to Ucchan's," Ukyo said with a friendly tone and winning smile. "What can I get for you tonight?"

The girl nodded her head politely and pursed her delicate lips thoughtfully. "Hm...how about a deluxe seafood okonomiyaki? And...information too, if you're willing to answer a few questions. I'm looking for someone who I heard has been in Nerima recently."

_Oh great, what has Genma done this time?,_ the okonomiyaki chef thought with a mentally exasperated sigh as she resisted the urge to slap a hand to her forehead, recent history giving her ample grounds to jump to this conclusion. _If he engaged another girl to Ranma I'll beat him up again and make a rug out of his stupid panda hide._

"Sure, Kuonji's are always willing to help customers with their problems," Ukyo answered with more cheer than she felt at the moment. Maybe if she fished for information she could handle this herself and send the girl on her way before she ever met Ranma? "Who are you looking for, and why are you after them?"

The girl looked at her hopefully but maintained a level tone as she answered. "He would be a martial artist about our age. I'm afraid I can't offer a physical description because I haven't met him before, but there's a matter of honor between us and our families that needs to be settled."

_Yep, definitely sounds like another fiancée_, Ukyo concluded, trying to prevent her growing irritation from showing. _Next time I see Genma I swear I'll—_

"I'm looking for a Hibiki Ryouga. Have you seen anyone using that name around?"

Ukyo released a sigh of relief. This was good. The girl was looking for Ryouga, not Ranma, and—Wait, why didn't she feel relieved? And why was she feeling even more irritated?

The girl looked at her worriedly. "Are you all right? Your face is turning red, and your body is shaking. If—"

"I'm fine!" Ukyo exclaimed hastily, slapping a hand to her chest and coughing. "Perfectly fine! Sorry, just had something stuck in my throat for a moment. Anyway, Hibiki Ryouga? Let me think..."

Unfortunately, before Ukyo could think about the matter and decide how much of the truth to reveal, her other two customers had the bad timing to join them at the counter.

"Thanks for the meal and offer to guide me to my duel, Ukyo, but I don't want to trouble you further and Ryoko can lead me there from here," the Lost Boy said gratefully, unaware of the danger he was in as he stood behind his equally unaware pursuer. "Besides, the way this night's been going for me it's probably for the best that I don't stay long. Until this whole ninja business is settled there's no telling when I'll be attacked again. The money for the food is on the table, so we'll be taking our leave now."

"Thank you very much," Ryoko added in her own cloyingly sweet voice. "You've been a big help, and I'm sure we'll be seeing more of each other soon. From what _Ryouga_ tells me, life is always an adventure for a _Hibiki_ on the road."

This time Ukyo did slap a hand to her forehead even as a suspicious part of her mind questioned if it was mere coincidence Asakura had emphasized the Lost Boy's name here and now. That line of inquiry was abruptly cut-off, though, as the black-haired girl in front of her quickly put the facts together. Her eyes widening in realization, the girl spun to face the man she'd been searching for—

"Hibiki Ryouga, at last I've found you! My name is Sato Kaeda of the Edo School of Martial Arts Tax Collection and I—"

—and who, they both belatedly realized as Kaeda's massive bust brushed against and pushed into Ryouga's chest, had been standing a bit too closely behind her.

"Gah!" both martial artists exclaimed in strangled unison as their faces turned beet red. Ryouga immediately reached for his nose to plug the forthcoming nosebleed while Kaeda buried her face in her hands to hide her luminescent blush. And then, remembering that they were still in a compromising position, they both hastily leapt to opposite sides of the restaurant and looked everywhere but at each other, each making half-formed, incoherently articulated apologies and both on the verge of fainting from embarrassment.

Observing this new development with her characteristically cheery, friendly smile, Ryoko leaned in close to Ukyo and whispered conspiratorially.

"Tell me...does this happen often here?"

Ukyo, whose eyes were twitching as she took in the juvenile display, nodded her head.

"You get used to it eventually," Ukyo said completely deadpan, frowning.

* * *

><p>Author's Notes: I apologize for taking so long to publish this chapter. I've been looking for a new job recently, and between spending most of the day at work in front of a computer and then working at home on resumes and cover letters I haven't been especially eager to spend even more time typing away on a keyboard. I am determined to see this story through to the end, though, so even if it takes me awhile I fully intend to finish it.<p>

Anyway, my thanks go to everyone who's left feedback. Your comments have been very helpful, and I've tried to incorporate some of your suggestions into the story and my formatting choices. I've added scene breaks to more clearly separate Haruhi's prose from the rest of the narrative and tried to shorten the lengths of the bolded sections so they're not as hard on the eyes. Please let me know if this helps or if you have further suggestions.

And on that note, I hope you've enjoyed reading this chapter and that the Easter weekend will be a happy time for you. The next installment shows off what Martial Arts Tax Collection can do in battle as Kaeda recovers herself enough to challenge Ryouga and also introduces a new cast member capable of overcoming Haruhi's best efforts to add her to the growing romantic pile-up (Saying how would spoil the surprise but I think it will be obvious to many when her identity is revealed, heh.). It should be fun.


	4. Rivals!

Title: Haruhi vs Hibiki

Teaser: A chance meeting between Suzumiya Haruhi and Hibiki Ryouga results in the Eternally Lost Boy becoming the main character in Haruhi's school writing assignment. Now, with Asakura Ryoko as his co-star, he has to survive Haruhi's storytelling long enough to save the world.

Author: Rowan Seven

Rating: PG-13 to be safe.

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 was created by Takahashi Rumiko. The Suzumiya Haruhi series was created by Tanigawa Nagaru. I make no legal claims to the characters, settings, and concepts featured in this story and am not profiting financially from this work of fan fiction.

* * *

><p>Chapter 4: Rivals – Sato Kaeda Strikes Back!<p>

_Tokugawa Ieyasu was a man who set his sights on the grand vision of uniting all of Japan under his rule. Through patience, cunning, and forbearance he accomplished his ambition and became shogun in 1603, bringing peace to a country that had known war for over a century. However, despite Ieyasu's hard-earned success and investiture of rank by the august Emperor Go-Yōzei, there were those who refused to honor the realm's new shogun and their own provincial daimyo lords by performing the simple duties expected of every loyal citizen. Even as the lands and peoples of the empire reaped the benefits of stable government, these deviant iconoclasts shamefully shirked their obligations to the state. These men were reprobates. Malcontents. Rebels without a cause._

_They were martial artists._

_"The path of the martial artist recognizes no master under heaven save for the art itself," they claimed disingenuously from dojos and solitary retreats that were no longer threatened by rampaging warlords and roving bandits thanks to the power of the restored shogunate. "We are they who dedicate themselves fully to the way of the warrior and we can neither deviate from nor compromise on this journey by paying homage to other masters. Moreover, just as the temples and shrines strengthen the spirit and promote virtue we hone the body and build character. We therefore deserve the same tax-exempt status!"_

_These words were beyond shameful. To equate the reverent respect paid by the shogunate to the institutions serving Heaven's supreme authority on the impermanent Earth with the worldly pursuit of physical strength by martial artists? Such contempt for the celestial order offended the ears of all virtuous men and women who heard it, and Tokugawa Ieyasu could not let such deplorable disrespect go without chastisement. In his own hand he wrote a decree commanding the land's hard-working tax collectors to redouble their efforts to collect what was owed the state without fail._

_Unfortunately, although the realm's tax collectors were willing to brave any peril to faithfully carry out their bureaucratic duties, their courage and honor meant nothing to these barbarous and disloyal martial artists. These "warriors" did not hesitate to unleash their devastating arts on those unable to defend themselves when the tax collectors showed up at their doorsteps and—even worse—these martial artists encouraged their students to join in their immoral behavior. Far from building character, these martial artists were teaching the youth of the nation to disrespect state workers! The many injuries and humiliations suffered by the noble civil servants aside, something had to be done before this moral decay could propagate!_

_"My lord Tokugawa, I have a plan," spoke one of the shogun's most trusted samurai retainers in this hour of crisis. "I fought in the Korean campaign waged by your predecessor, Taikō Toyotomi, and during the occupation of Seoul I heard a most remarkable story about a most remarkable martial art practiced by a most remarkable order of monks on the Chinese mainland. According to the legend, when China's first emperor, the puissant Qin Shi Huang, ended the Era of Warring States and unified the country under imperial rule he was confronted with a situation similar to what Japan now faces. In his august wisdom Qin Shi Huang chose to battle fire with fire and invested a mountain monastery with the sacred charge of collecting taxes from the wayward warriors who refused to acknowledge the Mandate of Heaven. If we were to send one of our realm's faithful tax collectors to China, surely these monks would recognize the justness of his cause and share their secret arts to help end this immoral lawlessness."_

_This advice pleased Tokugawa Ieyasu. The great shogun quickly dispatched a tax collector to Satsuma Province to arrange passage to China and, in a sign of the great shogun's equally great wisdom, moved the tax collector's family to Edo where they would be held hostage until the tax collector returned in triumph. Failure was not an option._

_And thus my thoroughly properly motivated ancestor, Sato Inori, traveled to China and learned the secret arts of martial arts tax collection from the monks of legend. The training lasted a harrowing three years, but he persevered and overcame both the clerical obfuscations of Ming Dynasty officials who owed back taxes and the angry arrows of Amazon tax dodgers. Finally, when he had mastered the ancient and formidable art, Inori returned to Japan and was reunited with his family who—the small matter of them being used as living collateral aside—rather enjoyed city life. He therefore chose the shogunate's capital as the founding site for his Edo School of Martial Arts Tax Collection and spent the rest of his long life traveling the nation to chastise the realm's martial artists into repenting of their evil ways and performing their honor-bound fiscal obligations to the state. _

_The Sato family has continued our honored ancestor's selfless legacy to the present day, tirelessly collecting taxes from those who foolishly believe themselves above the laws of the land. Taxes are a symbol of homage to the state, and the Emperor is the symbol of the state and the unity of the people. To cheat the tax system is to disrespect the Emperor himself and undermine the unity of this nation, and we of the Sato family will travel to the eight corners of the world if need be to address such wrongs! That is our duty and privilege, and as the persistent wind erodes the obstinate mountain we are relentless in overcoming the many obstacles that confront us as we go about our sacred mission of state._

_And now that you know my history, you also know what it means when I tell you that the Hibiki family is over 300 years in arrears and that my family has been assigned your case. From the Keian Era onwards we've searched for you and now, in this blessed year of Heisei, our pursuit finally ends. Prepare yourself to face the justice of the esteemed Japanese bureaucracy, Hibiki, for it is time for you to—_

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

"Wait," Ukyo interrupted the nearly breathless Kaeda. The flushed girl had retaken her stool in front of the restaurant's counter and had been alternately glowering at Ryouga and blushing at the memory of their earlier awkward encounter as she explained her family's "grudge" against the Hibikis. Ryouga, who was standing nearby at the counter's edge, reacted to Kaeda's glares as if they were daggers but matched her displays of embarrassment with his own abashed twitching. Ryoko, on the other hand, radiated the same serene amiability she'd presented since entering Ucchan's and was sitting on the stool nearest Ryouga with—to Ukyo's slight annoyance—barely an inch separating her back from the Lost Boy's chest. The okonomiyaki chef puzzledly acknowledged and then discarded her irritation at their closeness to refocus her full attention on the tax collector.

"Let me get this straight," she said, placing extra weight on her next words for clarity. She'd been living in Nerima long enough to know the unnecessary trouble that could come from verbal misunderstandings. "You come from a dynasty of martial artists employed as tax collectors by the Japanese government, and your family has been after the Hibikis since the _1650s_ for back taxes?"

Kaeda, who had frowned slightly at the incredulous emphasis the okonomiyaki chef placed on the date, nodded her head affirmatively. Ukyo spared a quick look at Ryouga to make sure he had recovered enough of his composure to pay attention and then continued her questioning.

"All right then. Important question number two. Just how much did the Hibikis forget to pay? Must've been an awful lot for your family to be so headstrong about it."

A sweat drop appeared on Kaeda's brow, but the black haired girl quickly wiped it off, squared her shoulders, and gathered her resolve as she faced her questioners.

"Hibiki Akimasa's payment to his daimyo in 1649 was...that is to say...um...it was one koku short."

Ukyo couldn't help herself and face-palmed. "Your family's been chasing the Hibikis for roughly three hundred fifty years over a _mere_ few bushels of rice?"

Ryoko brought her hands together and smiled sunnily. "What an admirable intergenerational work ethic! The National Tax Agency must be proud of your dedication."

Kaeda laughed anxiously but seemed pleased by the data interface's praise and flashed the irenic alien a grateful smile.

"Yes, well...It may be hard for non-civil servants to understand, but to the Satos it's the principle that matters, not the amount. Whether it's one koku in the distant past or one million yen in the present, the same laws are being violated and that is unacceptable."

Ukyo looked at Kaeda dubiously from behind the counter of her restaurant. "Uh-huh. Still sounds a bit extreme to me. Couldn't your ancestors have...oh, I don't know...sent the Hibikis a letter explaining that they were a koku short or raise their taxes in the following year to make up the difference instead?"

Kaeda sniffed proudly.

"Hardly," she responded, her voice infused with professional pride that grew with every word. "Once a case has been referred to the Satos nothing less than a personally conveyed verbal warning will do. Only by confronting the culprit face-to-face can my family immediately deliver heaven's justice if the scoundrel compounds his crimes further by continuing to flout the state's authority and ignoring the duly given notice of wrongdoing. Tradition as martial artists, our honor as civil servants, and legal statutes won't tolerate anything less."

"Even if it means letting back taxes remain unpaid _for centuries_ as you chase down a family with the world's worst sense of direction?" Ukyo asked with minor scorn, her common sense as a businesswoman chiming in with its own opinion about taking so long to collect debts.

The tax collector's sharp black eyes narrowed angrily, but before she could respond in kind the original target of her ire unexpectedly came to her defense.

"I...ah, I think your family's determination is actually quite commendable," Ryouga spoke softly as he walked over to stand between Ryoko and Kaeda, his eyes watching the tax collector with a combination of nervousness and caution. "My pride as a warrior won't let me accept any victory over Ranma I don't earn honestly, and as fellow martial artists I imagine your family feels the same about its battles. It...uh, it may be over 300 years late, but as the only representative of my family present I offer the Hibikis' sincerest apologies for the trouble we've caused you and the disrespect we've unknowingly shown the Japanese government."

The Lost Boy bowed deeply before Kaeda in apology and thus completely missed both the blush that reignited across her face at his closeness and kind words and Ukyo's eye roll as she shot an exasperated look at her occasional partner in plotting.

"And thus we have the boy who chased someone to China and back over bread and the girl who's following him over rice," she commented sarcastically. "You two make _quite_ the pair."

Surprisingly, Ryouga chuckled at the insult and looked at Ukyo with amusement in his brown eyes.

"Like you're one to talk, considering your ten year vendetta over a stolen okonomiyaki cart."

"It was my dowry! That's completely different!"

"And my feud with Ranma isn't? Don't get me started on—"

Ryoko clapped her hands together, the sudden interruption drawing everyone's attention. She followed up with a dazzlingly friendly smile.

"I have to admit that I'm beginning to feel left out," she spoke with cute faux petulance. "Bread, rice, and okonomiyaki? I appear to be the only one who hasn't chased someone else to the ends of the earth over food, although it's nice that you three all have so much in common!" Her aquamarine eyes narrowed playfully. "Perhaps _too much_ in common? I shouldn't be jealous, should I Ryouga?"

The Lost Boy and tax collector both stuttered incoherently at the accusation, while Ukyo erupted in incredulous laughter.

"Ha! Me and—no offense intended, Ryouga, really!—that directionless idiot? Sorry, sugar, but he's not my type, and I already have my Ranma honey."

Ryoko raised one of her thick eyebrows questioningly and turned to look at Ryouga. "Really? Is he the same Ranma as—"

"Yes," Ryouga answered through grit teeth, "the same Ranma who's my rival and a womanizing, two-timing jerk. His father engaged him to Ukyo when they were both children, in addition to what seems like half of Japan at times."

The azure haired alien turned back to Ukyo and made a sympathetic sound. "How unfortunate. Someone as pretty as you shouldn't have to rely on an arranged marriage to find a boyfriend."

The okonomiyaki chef opened her mouth automatically, but confusion over whether she'd been complimented or insulted kept her silent. Instead, the tax collector seized the opportunity to speak.

"As—ahem—interesting as all this may be, there's still the matter of the back taxes your family owes, Hibiki."

"Oh yeah, that. I'd almost forgotten," Ryouga replied sheepishly, reaching to scratch the back of his neck again in his typical embarrassed fashion. "I'm afraid I don't have much money on me right now, but I think I can afford to buy a few bags of rice so if you'll...um, lead me to the nearest grocery store I can—"

Kaeda shook her head, looking almost apologetic, and raised a hand to quiet him.

"I'm afraid you don't fully understand the direness of your family's situation, Hibiki," she said sternly. "One koku was what your family owed in 1649, more than 300 years ago. And while your family has paid its taxes in full every year since—That means the principal amount hasn't changed—the late fees and interest have accumulated considerably. When you convert the sum into modern yen, the full amount the Hibikis owe the Japanese government is—Ah, you might want to sit down for this part, Hibiki."

Ryouga blinked but otherwise appeared unworried. "Oh come on. It was only one koku. How bad can it be?"

Unaware of the colossal blunder he'd just made by tempting fate like that, the Lost Boy crossed his arms and awaited Kaeda's answer. He didn't wait long.

"156,804,000 yen."

A long moment of shocked silence followed until—

"How about I pay for our meal instead, Ryouga? From the sound of things you need the money more than I do," Ryoko offered kindly as she rested a hand on top of Ryouga's supportively, keeping his palms on the counter instead of slamming against and likely breaking it and thereby adding to his newly discovered debt.

The Lost Boy was less tranquil than his blue-haired companion.

"156,804,000 yen?!" he repeated incredulously. "What, am I supposed to sell my organs to the yakuza or something? How in the world do you expect me to raise that kind of money?"

Kaeda shrugged helplessly.

"That's your problem to solve, Hibiki, not mine," she said with a trace of minor remorse in her voice. "The law is the law, and while I can put in a good word for you with the National Tax Agency to help arrange a generous monthly payment plan the law still has to be obeyed. To do otherwise would be an insult to the Emperor. But all that aside, there's a more immediate matter that demands your attention."

The tax collector suddenly grinned eagerly and brought her hands together in front of her.

"According to statute, if the offender does not pay immediately it falls to the Satos to punish him for his ongoing transgression against the nation and then deliver the culprit to the nearest government office to work out a payment plan. My family has been hunting yours for centuries, Hibiki, and I'm not about to let the chance to restore my family's honor slip by. For the sake of my grandfather, I challenge you to a duel Hibiki Ryouga!"

The Lost Boy looked ready to protest but, seeing the determined look in the raven-haired martial artist's black eyes and recognizing it as one he often wore himself, he sighed in resignation instead.

"I accept your challenge then," he said reluctantly, his shoulders slumping. "I don't normally fight girls"—Ryoko and Ukyo both chuckled quietly at this comment—"but refusing you would be an insult to your honor. Before we...ah, start though, what happens if I win, just to be clear? You're not honor bound to hunt down and kill any man who defeats you or marry him, are you?"

Kaeda peered at the Lost Boy strangely. "Don't be ridiculous. We can't collect taxes from the dead, and why would _any_ Sato marry a tax dodger? It would be a stain on the family name!"

Ryouga released a sigh of relief and breathed a little easier. It appeared he wasn't about to fight another Shampoo, so maybe this wouldn't be so bad after—

"If the tax delinquent defeats the tax collector in combat, the National Tax Agency further penalizes the amount owed to cover the tax collector's medical expenses. Once the tax collector recovers he—or _she_, in my case—tries again and keeps trying until either success or retirement, in which case the matter is passed on to the next generation with additional late fees. We Satos don't give up, Hibiki, and the longer a debt goes unpaid the more painful restitution—financial _and_ physical—becomes."

—Then again, Ryouga thought to himself, perhaps an angry Amazon would have been better. At least his wallet would be safer.

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

Haruhi stretched her hands above her head and yawned, temporarily satisfied after a long afternoon's hard work of making somebody else's life miserable. And by miserable I mean a third-rate light novel, which pretty much amounts to the same thing.

"Well, I guess that it's for today," she said cheerfully. Standing up and grabbing her bag, she headed for the door.

"Last one out lock up, or there'll be a penalty!"

Miss Asahina would have been the next to depart, but whatever compulsion lay behind her uncharacteristic haste wasn't enough for her to forget that she was still in Haruhi's cosplay. With one of her irresistibly cute 'eeps,' she turned around at the door, bowed apologetically, and motioned for Koizumi and me to go outside the clubroom so she could change back into North High's student uniform. Koizumi complied with his typical nonchalant grace and picked up his own bag on his way out. I followed and waited outside in the hallway.

"I suppose I'd best report to my superiors now. I'm sure they'll be interested in today's events, particularly Miss Asahina's uncharacteristic decision to involve someone affiliated with her faction in this matter. Outside of Miss Asahina herself, it's not often that the time travelers take the 'time' for a hands-on approach concerning Miss Suzumiya."

Ugh. I don't know what's more irritating: your ongoing suspicion of Miss Asahina or the deliberately bad pun. Don't tell me a cat's got your normally silver tongue, Koizumi!

The pretty boy esper shrugged with faux sheepishness. "Forgive me. Members of the Organization's local branch—myself included—have been quite busy lately, and the effort has robbed me of some of my Shakespearian wit."

Koizumi's eternal smile suddenly tightened, and he leaned in closer to me.

"Be that as it may, I'm sure you realize how atypical it is for Miss Asahina to volunteer any of her faction's resources like this. Motives aside, it's a departure from precedent and could introduce another actor to Miss Suzumiya's story, and the more actors there are the greater the risk there is that the story will spiral out of control. You know Miss Suzumiya well enough to understand how she'd react to that, and while the Organization will do what we can to pacify our Brigade Chief's 'creative demons' we're trusting you to be her muse and keep her writing on track."

Just as suddenly as he'd invaded it, Koizumi withdrew from my personal space and let his grin return to its normal size.

"So for everyone's sake, Kyon, do your best, preferably as a Thalia rather than a Melpomene but I'll leave that call to you."

Oh sure, Koizumi, put all the responsibility on my shoulders again as you walk away with an annoyingly chipper smile to meet shadowy colleagues and battle astral colossi in hidden pocket dimensions. We both know that you still have the easier job! And why is my choice between the Muse of Comedy and the Muse of Tragedy? One of Haruhi's main characters is an alien so why can't I be Urania instead? Or maybe even Erato—NO. Scratch that, forget I even suggested it, and the put the idea on a plane to join the French Foreign Legion. Being Thalia is fine.

Refusing to think about where my thoughts almost went, I continued waiting outside the door for Miss Asahina to finish changing. She didn't take much longer, and after we exchanged a brief farewell at the door I re-entered the clubroom as she left for the day. Talk with Koizumi aside, I had questions, and there was one friend I could trust to be honest with me.

"Nagato? Would you mind if I walked you back to your apartment? There are a few things I'd like to ask you about."

Nagato set her book down and inclined her head in the slightest of nods, and I smiled honestly at her quick agreement. Even though the odds of Nagato blowing me off for other plans are about the same as Haruhi deciding she's missed her true calling in life as a housewife, I still felt relieved that she hadn't said no. I really do need to do something nice for her soon to thank her for all her help. Maybe I can take her to the library again after we finish dealing with the latest Haruhi-centered crisis?

Ten minutes and a completely natural scene change later, we were outside the school walking down the street together, a boy, a girl, and the boy's bike between them as chaperone. We could have passed for normal, assuming one didn't pay too much attention to Nagato's dispassionate, purposeful stride or eavesdrop on our conversation long enough to piece together any of the topics.

"So...Nagato, should we be worried that Asakura's back? She's tried to kill me twice already and nearly succeeded the last time, and I don't like the idea of her playing an important role in anything that's related to Haruhi, especially if Haruhi's endgame plot actually does involve the fate of the world."

Yeah, definitely not normal conversation starters unless your name is Kyon (which it isn't!) or your closest friends and everyone you know at school are too lazy to show the courtesy of calling you by your true name (which they are!) and instead use the shorter diminutive your cute but annoying little sister cursed you with. Damn it.

The pale alien girl answered my question in a quiet tone.

"At present Asakura poses no threat to you. Her operating parameters have been re-centered around Hibiki Ryouga and his immediate locus, and her data permissions to act within Suzumiya's sphere of influence have been revoked. So long as you remain close to Suzumiya the only scenarios in which Asakura can interact with you are ones where Suzumiya's path crosses with Hibiki's again, and the probability of that happening is statistically insignificant."

I cocked an eyebrow. "You sound very certain about this."

Nagato nodded her head slightly. "Precedent and observational data indicate Suzumiya has too much pride as a writer to employ the cliché of inserting herself into her own story."

O-kay. I suppose gambling on Haruhi's pride is smarter than betting on her common sense, and the movie fiasco (in which I also almost died, damn it again) seems to back this up. Still...this is Asakura we're talking about. She's already proven willing to disobey orders in the past, and I wouldn't put it past her to do so again.

"Do not worry. I will protect you."

"There's no one I trust more to do so, but it's not just me I'm worried about, Nagato," I spoke hurriedly, stopping to turn and look at her directly. "This concerns you too, and if there's anything I can do to help I want to know. You're my—you're my friend, and have done more for me than possibly anyone else in the world. Besides, at this point Asakura probably has more reasons to go after you than me. And even if you are completely safe, I'd still like to know how _you_ feel about Asakura being active again. I meant what I said last December; you don't have to do everything alone."

Nagato's golden brown eyes blinked once as she met my gaze, and she remained silent for a long moment before responding.

"Understood," she said at last with a subtle shift in her expression that anyone else would have missed. There are a lot of things about Nagato I don't know, but I do know the importance of watching her closely. I don't want to mess up again like I did in December and be ignorant of the burdens she's shouldering...and it's not as if she's _unpleasant_ to watch, though if I continue that train of thought God's jealous wrath will probably strike me down. Damn it again for the third time, Haruhi!

"I did submit an objection to my superiors about Asakura's physical restoration," she confessed impassively, turning to resume our walk as I followed alongside. "As you previously stated, she is unpredictable and willing to violate her operational parameters. These traits make her unsuitable to act as a humanoid data interface. However, other factions within the Data Integration Thought Entity believed it wiser to reactivate Asakura under the Entity's own volition than take the risk of Suzumiya's power recompiling Asakura's data on its own and transforming her into a free agent."

"Haruhi could do that?" Wait, what am I saying? This is Haruhi—of course she could do that!

"Data is data," Nagato answered crisply. "The Data Integration Though Entity has ultimate jurisdiction over the interfaces under its domain, but it is not impossible for that jurisdiction to be disrupted or even usurped. Therefore, based on Asakura's established instability, the Entity decided to facilitate Suzumiya's latest endeavor rather than obstruct it."

"The current scenario is still less than optimal," she continued, giving me a quick look but not slowing her stride. "But by choosing this course of action, a degree of oversight over Asakura is maintained."

I looked up at the sky pensively. That 'oversight' hadn't stopped Asakura from trying to kill me before, and while I could hope Nagato's bosses would keep a closer eye on the blue-haired terror the second time around there were still other ways Asakura could cause trouble.

"What about Asakura herself? I don't know what the exact relationship is between what Haruhi writes and what happens in the real world, but as a main character Asakura has tremendous potential to shape the story. Even if she doesn't go into slasher-smile psycho yandare mode again, can we trust her not to throw spanners in the works?"

Nagato hesitated again before answering. This time, the pause was not comforting.

"Probably," she answered cautiously. "Asakura seeks new data to process. So long as her role in the story remains non-mundane and continues to stimulate her she will be cooperative. However, she is also aware that this is a temporary assignment. As the story nears its end she might take advantage of opportunities to permanently change the status quo. You will need to guide Suzumiya's writing so Asakura doesn't have the chance to harm others."

Great, another help request. Am I in an MMO where everyone but me has a yellow exclamation mark over their heads? Still, being asked for help from Nagato is preferable to listening to Koizumi pitch his newest quest, even if they're both essentially asking for the same thing. So, really, deadly stakes and Haruhi's madness aside, what is there to complain about right now?

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

Sato Kaeda was not a complainer by nature. She'd been raised to esteem the traditional values of her homeland and preferred to deal with any obstacles in her path than dwell on their perceived unfairness or difficulty. Moreover, she had an ideal to strive for in the professional reputation of the Japanese bureaucracy and did her best to embody their distinguished character, diligent work ethic, and humble demeanor. She accepted her assignments without complaint and let the results speak for themselves.

The vexed thoughts currently running through Kaeda's head were, therefore, somewhat uncharacteristic for the National Tax Agency's rising young star. She was even tempted to curse, but she knew such uncouth language was unacceptable while on the job and that uttering the vile words would shame her in the ever watchful eyes of her dead ancestors. Instead, she took a deep breath and quickly reviewed the problems that were bothering her this night.

The first was one Kuonji Ukyo whose impressive culinary talent was matched by her barbed tongue. Kaeda did not know what she'd done to antagonize the okonomiyaki chef who'd seemed nice enough when she'd first entered the brunette's restaurant, but Ukyo had gone on in short order to ridicule her dedication and mock her family's principles. And if that wasn't already bad enough, the chef was now exploiting her commercially by setting up a portable okonomiyaki cart on the side of the same street she was about to fight her family's rival on. Was not even the sanctity of battle sacred to this avaricious, shrill-tongued shrew?

Second was Asakura Ryoko, though Kaeda's mind was still struggling with how to classify her. The North High student had been nothing but the embodiment of friendliness since being introduced, and Kaeda couldn't think of anything unpleasant to say about her other than that the girl's humor bordered on being impish. There was something..._off_ about Ryoko, though, something subtle and faint that nonetheless flagged her warrior's sixth sense. And if Ryoko truly was a ninja...well, she'd had enough run-ins with their kind to know that they were masters of deception.

And then there was the young martial artist standing half a dozen yards in front of her, his left hand gripping a red bamboo umbrella currently slung casually behind his neck and his right hand hanging loosely at his side. Despite the seeming nonchalance of his stance Kaeda knew that this generation's scion of her family's ancient quarry was tensed for battle and prepared to spring into motion at a moment's notice. Underestimating him could be fatal for her chance to restore her family's honor, and Kaeda was determined not to make that mistake.

Unfortunately for the young tax collector, that meant keeping a very close eye on Hibiki Ryouga and scrutinizing him thoroughly to identify any strengths and weaknesses that could be discerned through physical cues. Normally this would not be a problem for her, but there was something different about this case that threw her off her game.

Sato Kaeda _liked_ what she saw.

_Damn it, why does he have to be so handsome?_, she thought miserably._ Shouldn't the shame of owing back taxes for so many generations have horribly marred his body? It's not fair! _

Realistically, Kaeda knew that not paying taxes did not corrupt a person's physical appearance no matter how many dark side points it generated in the grand scheme of things. Anyone could be guilty of tax fraud or an accessory to it, and she'd attended all the mandatory seminars on the dangers of profiling and stereotypes. However, because most of the tax delinquents she dealt with were wizened corporate tycoons with hired bodyguards or elderly kung fu masters she lacked experience confronting people her own age, and this inexperience was compounded by the same social awkwardness that afflicted so many of her similarly martially inclined peers.

Simply put, Sato Kaeda did not know how to deal with boys, especially good-looking, well-mannered boys who under other circumstances she'd like to—

_NO! Don't-think-ecchi-thoughts-don't-think-ecchi-thoughts! You were warned about this during the sexual harassment training! Stay professional, don't say anything that could be misconstrued, and don't make any suggestive hand gestures, or you'll be faced with a lawsuit and hounded by the scandal-hungry Japanese press until the next government corruption story breaks! _

Kaeda might have been comforted to know that her opponent was undergoing a similar struggle, as Ryouga was someone whose higher thought processes took a penalty around beautiful members of the opposite sex and who had been taught from an early age how extremely dishonorable it was to hurt women. The effect Kaeda's deep breaths as she tried to focus were having on her upper chest weren't making things any easier for Ryouga either, and part of the reason for his casual stance was that he was too busy trying _not_ to think about how attractive Kaeda was to think about defense.

_Damn it, what the hell is going on tonight?_, Ryouga thought irritably as he struggled mightily against the natural male inclinations of his eyes. _First a cute but borderline psychotic girl who might be an alien attacks and nearly kills me, and now a beautiful bureaucrat is after my wallet and out to settle a centuries old feud? What's next, a catgirl seeking revenge against me because my dog chased her down a street once and she's too afraid to personally confront Shirokuro? All of this craziness almost makes me buy Asakura's crackpot story, but who in their right mind would write something _this_ ridiculous? No, there's gotta be another explanation..._

The Lost Boy's brows furrowed deeply as his mind strove to find an answer for the strange encounters this night, and it quickly settled on a familiar culprit.

_Ranma, this is all your fault! I don't know how yet, but you must've somehow transferred your weirdness magnetism to me! It's the only explanation that makes any sense, and I won't let you get away with it. I've already seen hell because of you, and I don't want to see what lies below that! Once I make it to our duel I'll—_

A feminine cough interrupted Ryouga's train of thought, and he looked up abashedly at the reminder that he already had a duel he needed to fight.

"So, how should we begin?" Kaeda asked politely, her voice firmer than her concentration. With a disgusted sigh she made one more attempt to banish the stray and distracting thoughts flitting through her mind and then reached for the pair of black sunglasses in her jacket's breast pocket. In a practiced gesture she placed the shades over her raven-colored eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to draw upon the professionalism of her attire to reclaim some of her focus.

Ryouga chuckled nervously. This was a little different than the usual "Ranma, prepare to die!" he started most of his duels with, but considering the circumstances he believed he knew how to deal with this.

"Since I'm, uh, the one whose family is in the wrong here, I'll let you make the first move. Wh-whenever you're ready, Sato."

Kaeda's face briefly colored at the act of chivalry, but the color was quickly eclipsed by battle-eagerness as she grinned confidently.

"Very generous of you, Hibiki," she said as she crouched down and set her black briefcase on the ground. A second later and her hands had gone for the latches to undo them and open the parcel. "One might even say _too_ generous, because it gives me time to do...this!"

The briefcase's lid dropped open, and Ryouga involuntarily shuddered at the sight his brown eyes now beheld.

_Paper? Crap, I hope this isn't going to be a repeat of that martial arts origami fight two months ago. Those thousand paper cranes were even more annoying than Happosai's bombs._

Those were the Lost Boy's last thoughts before the world around him disappeared into a crisp, white blur.

"Sato Tax Collection Official Business Technique Number One – Lost in the Paperwork!"

* * *

><p>Author's Notes: Satsuma Province was the feudal domain of the Shimazu daimyo who, because of their 1609 invasion of the Ryukyu Islands, "unofficially" controlled the nominally independent Ryukyu Kingdom's trade with the Chinese mainland.<p>

Koku is a former Japanese unit of volume used to measure rice, and many taxes were paid in terms of koku during Japan's Edo Period.


	5. Revelry!

Title: Haruhi vs Hibiki

Teaser: A chance meeting between Suzumiya Haruhi and Hibiki Ryouga results in the Eternally Lost Boy becoming the main character in Haruhi's school writing assignment. Now, with Asakura Ryoko as his co-star, he has to survive Haruhi's storytelling long enough to save the world.

Author: Rowan Seven

Rating: PG-13 to be safe.

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 was created by Takahashi Rumiko. The Suzumiya Haruhi series was created by Tanigawa Nagaru. I make no legal claims to the characters, settings, and concepts featured in this story and am not profiting financially from this work of fan fiction.

* * *

><p>Chapter 5: Revelry – A New Challenger Appears!<p>

**Like an animated scene from Read or Die but 20% cooler, over a dozen reams of tax forms printed on high-quality Japanese mulberry paper shot out of Sato Kaeda's briefcase and fanned out across the street in a seemingly endless wave of stationery. Within seconds all Ryouga could see in front of him was a towering white wall covered with arcane legal jargon that made Neon Genesis Evangelion's storyline look simple in comparison, but instead of fear he felt only eagerness in his heart. Eagerness for battle. Eagerness to match his skills against a worthy opponent. Eagerness for the unpredictability and excitement that eluded him in the mundaneness of modern society.**

**The brave warrior confidently unfurled his Buddhist blessed combat umbrella before the coming onslaught and stood with the roguish defiance of a shounen hero, but in this instance the Eternal Wanderer had misjudged his opponent's intentions. No sooner had he turned his umbrella into a shield than Kaeda's paperwork Absolute Terror Field shifted into a parabola and flowed around Ryouga before the ends curved again to make a circle. The beautiful tax collector didn't mean to sweep him away—she meant to drown him! **

**"Amazing!" Ryoko exclaimed dramatically as she watched the shell of dervishly swirling stationery meet overhead and start shrinking to trap the tax collector's target in a paper half-globe of doom. "Sato has infused every slip of paper with her own ki for control and combined the technique with an omni-directional Shinto multi-ward attack. She truly is a martial arts prodigy!"**

**Ukyo raised a hand to her chin pensively while the other hand lifted a spatula to flip an unquestionably wholesome and delicious all-natural okonomiyaki on the portable grill she'd set up on the side of the street.**

**"But to subdivide one's ki among so many objects...isn't that like trying to simultaneously control all twenty squadrons of a space fleet separately in the splendiferous computer game Day of Sagitarrius III? The cost in ki and concentration must be enormous." **

**The alien ninja schoolgirl nodded her pretty head sagely.**

**"Yes, that is the fundamental weakness of combining these two techniques," Ryoko explained for Ukyo's benefit (and certainly not the reader's because **_**this**_** author respects the intelligence of her large and incredibly diverse multinational audience). "Anyone less than a master will be effectively immobilized by the intense mental effort required to maintain such extensive external ki manipulation and will also rapidly deplete ki."**

**"Why use an attack with such huge disadvantages, then? With her entire concentration focused on manipulating paper you or I or an **_**evil student council president who will not be named**_** could run her over with an M4 Sherman tank and by the time she noticed it would be too late."**

**The ninja schoolgirl's ample bosom heaved as she sighed melodramatically and clasped her hands in front of her. "Perhaps, but to a student of martial arts tax collection the neutrality of third parties is sacrosanct. Unless and until we become accessories to the Hibikis' tax delinquency we are no more than observers to Sato and will be treated as such, and while we could take advantage of this I'm afraid Ryouga would never forgive us for interfering in an honorable duel like that." **

**"**_**Interfere**_**?" the cute okonomiyaki chef squawked indignantly a half-beat too late for the emotion to be genuine. "D-d-don't be ridiculous! With a promotional event like this happening outside my restaurant I wouldn't think of it, and I could care less what happens to Ryouga—he's a friend and nothing more!" **

**The bodacious blue-haired ninja smiled slyly at her companion's protest but did not press the hot-button topic. Instead, she merely nodded her head and continued to watch the battle.**

**"I'm glad you feel that way, but even if you didn't I don't believe interference will be necessary because I have **_**faith**_**. Faith in Hibiki Ryouga. Faith that the man I've fallen madly in love with in a completely natural and unforced way in under three hours will find a way to escape from Sato Kaeda's pernicious prison of paper financial documentation before being shredded to the bone or forced to surrender...and firsthand experience fighting Ryouga too, but that is completely irrelevant to this discussion and in no way diminishes the power of my youthful romantic idealism!"**

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

Hibiki Ryouga was not a complete fool. He might believe that having huge boulders swung at him made for excellent martial arts training and was gullible enough to fall for Ranma's blatantly obvious disguises time and again, but he did possess enough common sense to suspect that the normally harmless paper currently swirling around him ferociously enough to sound like a banshee's wail would do more than give him a minor paper cut if he reached out and touched any of it.

Ryouga was also perceptive enough to grasp the peril of his current circumstances. He was completely surrounded by hostile and rapidly contracting stationery, and in another minute he'd have so little space to move around in that he'd be effectively immobilized and at Kaeda's mercy. He needed to escape immediately, but all possible routes to freedom had been cut-off.

_All except one, that is._

His lips pursing upwards in a small expression of smugness, the Lost Boy closed his umbrella, crouched, and jabbed the paved, _concrete_ street beneath his feet with the index finger of his right hand.

"Bakusai Tenketsu!"

The ground split in a thunderous explosion. Debris flew like hail until it collided with the whirling paper and was shredded to mere dust, but by then Ryouga had already plummeted into Nerima's sewers. A flash of reflexive panic overtook him as his feet touched water, but memory and the cacophonous—almost _angry_—sound of razor-sharp paper swirling down after him sent him racing through the underground tunnel.

_I've got to disrupt Sato's concentration and cut-off the flow of paper!_, Ryouga thought hurriedly, his martial arts training taking over as his mind ran through dozens of options and permutations until finally settling on a single course of action a few seconds later.

_And the best way to do that is—_

"Bakusai Tenketsu!" Ryouga shouted again, leaping up to stab the tunnel's ceiling where he thought Kaeda would be.

**Ka-BWOOM!**

Concrete hail fell once more as another egress to the surface cracked and exploded open, but the flying tax forms flowed around the cascading shrapnel and continued their dogged pursuit. Sato Kaeda did not drop down to join them, and Ryouga bit back a curse at his mistaken bearings. Still, he was not the type of person who gave up easily, and a moment later and staying ahead of the paper horde by little more than a yard he leapt up again.

"Bakusai Tenketsu!"

**Ka-BWOOM!**

And again.

"Bakusai Tenketsu!"

**Ka-BWOOM!**

And again. And again. And again.

"Bakusai Tenketsu!" "Bakusai Tenketsu!" "Bakusai Tenketsu!"

**Ka-BWOOM! Ka-BWOOM! Ka-BWOOM!**

And again, until the Lost Boy finally got it right.

"Bakusai Tenketsu!" he shouted, stabbing the tunnel's ceiling with his right index finger and releasing a minute amount of ki to strike the concrete's breaking point. Cracks appeared below and on the surface almost immediately, but Kaeda was too absorbed in her paper manipulation to react until the street in front of her detonated a second later. She released a startled cry as the force of the blast flung her backwards and separated her from her briefcase and, with her concentration interrupted, the reams of levitating stationery in the sewers became inert and plummeted into the stream of wastewater.

A moment later Ryouga jumped out of the newest and haphazardly shaped hole he'd created in the now severely pockmarked street and landed nimbly on both feet. Spotting Kaeda and seeing her reaching out with a hand in what he assumed was an attempt to raise her paper swarm, he hurled his bamboo umbrella at her and followed after it with a raised fist.

Fortunately for Kaeda, she hadn't committed her full attention back to the special technique yet and still possessed enough awareness of her surroundings to sense her rival's approach. The tax collector sighed as disgruntedly as she could without sounding unladylike and used her other hand to push herself into the air and away from the incoming parasol projectile. She landed with a back-flip just in time to dodge Ryouga's blow and spent the next minute evading and painfully blocking a punishing flurry of strikes from the Lost Boy's hands and feet. She finally managed to trip him up with an elaborate feint and knocked him to the ground with a leg sweep, but rather than take advantage of his fall she bounded backwards to put some breathing space between them and immediately collapsed to her knees in exhaustion.

"Not...not bad," Kaeda spoke with labored breaths, her black shades falling off her face as she panted heavily and placed a hand on the street to steady herself. "That first technique...usually gets a surrender as soon as the paper cuts be-begin. It...ah, ha...looks like we'll have to do this the hard away after all..."

Ryouga grunted as he rose back to his feet and prepared to lunge at his enemy but, seeing Kaeda spent and barely able to support herself, he unwisely hesitated. He opened his mouth to speak but the tax collector, whose beguiling black eyes had narrowed the instant she saw the sympathetic expression on his face, cut him off before the air even left his lungs.

"_Don't_ look at me like that, Hibiki. I know...what you're thinking, but for me to give up now so quickly...my ancestors would rightly be ashamed of me. Besides...you're wrong anyway."

Kaeda suddenly laughed and, although it was a struggle for her, stood back up. Despite looking like she was on the verge of complete collapse from all the ki she'd burned with her paper manipulation, there was no mistaking the confidence in her stance. The resolve mixed with fragility enhanced her already considerable natural beauty, and for a brief moment Ryouga's mind reclassified his opponent as a lovely young woman instead of the dangerous martial artist he'd been fighting and he hesitated.

Unfortunately for him, that was a rather critical moment.

"Give me some credit, Hibiki. Do you really think I'd put _everything_ I had into my very first attack?" Kaeda asked rhetorically with a weary shake of her head. "Trust me—that was only the opening salvo, and this fight is far from over."

The tax collector suddenly rolled back the left sleeve of her jacket and placed her right hand over the black watch strapped around her wrist.

"Sato Tax Collection Official Business Technique Number Two – Overtime!"

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

**Sato Kaeda's midnight black hair suddenly seethed in the still air, the coal tendrils writhing and trembling as the extremely beautiful and extraordinarily well-endowed martial artist's nearly exhausted ki abruptly surged. No visible aura surrounded the National Tax Agency's rising young star, but the space around her nonetheless vibrantly hummed with potent power and shimmered as her invisible ki flowed and rippled around her and then sank back into her body instead of exploding outward.**

**"Amazing!" Ryoko exclaimed again as she once more explained what was happening to Ukyo and not the discerning and extremely distinguished reader. "Sato spiked her own ki, reabsorbed the power before it became a battle aura, and then rechanneled it through her ki meridians, thereby replenishing her energy reserves and supercharging herself. That's exactly the kind of cost-effective martial arts technique I'd expect from a prodigy of the School of Martial Arts Tax Collection!"**

**The neighboring okonomiyaki chef 'hmmed' fretfully and flipped yet another perfectly cooked and incredibly delicious okonomiyaki onto the top of the growing stack sitting on the plate on her countertop. Her worry earlier in the night about the lack of customers remained but had grown fainter as worry for Ryouga took its place...but only because he was a good and dear friend and not for **_**any**_** reason other than that!, she told herself insistently.**

**"But won't spiking her ki produce an equal opposite reaction later in the form of a ki 'crash'?" Ukyo asked, more to distract herself from her own unsettled thoughts than for clarification. "Sato was almost dead on her feet earlier and when that catches up with her the results can't possibly be good!"**

**The space alien ninja schoolgirl who was also a martial arts expert for the purposes of this scene shook her head in the negative.**

**"No, you need to go **_**deeper**_**. Look not with your eyes but with your mind's eye and marvel. Sato hasn't only supercharged her ki; she's streamlined her internal aura to a virtually unheard of degree and is using ki so efficiently that it'll burn off normally. Depending on how many times she's capable of recovering like this, Ryouga could find himself in a battle almost as long as a Dragonball Z season climax if he's unable to KO her."**

**The talented tsundere chef shook her head unhappily.**

**"I certainly hope this fight doesn't take that long. Again, I don't care what happens to Ryouga **_**at all**_**, but if this goes on all night my delicious okonomiyaki will grow cold."**

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

Ryouga almost felt like he was in an episode of Dragonball Z; Sato's control over her aura and ability to super-charge it were reminiscent of the few episodes of that series he'd watched as P-chan inside the Tendo's home, and the way she was now moving at incredibly rapid speeds and blurring visually in a manner he'd normally associate with cost-saving animation techniques strengthened the comparison in his mind.

However, the Lost Boy felt the analogy was fatally undercut the moment Kaeda began circling and striking him hundreds of times nearly instantaneously from multiple directions at speeds rivaling Ranma's Amaguriken punches. He'd never heard of Son Goku having the living daylights knocked out of him by a cute girl, and while he wasn't a _chauvinistic, triple-timing jerk_ like his rival this was still painfully embarrassing. Or was it embarrassingly painful? He wasn't sure because it wasn't actually all that painful—Kaeda's strikes packed enough power to send him flying and being tossed around like a rag doll wasn't much fun, but she didn't know about his inhuman constitution and wasn't concentrating her attacks in one spot to maximize the damage as Ranma often did. That meant he could weather the assault and wait for the ferocity of her strikes to slow, and once they did—

_Gotcha!_ Ryouga crowed triumphantly, seeing an opening as a jab to his left shoulder sent him spinning through the air. The distances he was traveling between strikes had grown as Kaeda's speed waned, and as Kaeda ran to get behind him he slammed a foot down on the ground to bring his rotation under control and turned to face her while he brought his two hands together. Focusing on all the frustration, shame, and despair that had been building within him, he channeled his negative emotions into a nearly point-blank ki blast.

"ShiShiHoukoudan!"

Unfortunately for the Lost Boy, that was probably one of the worst things he could have done at the moment.

"Refund!" Kaeda shouted in response, her right arm darting forward with an open palm to meet Ryouga's Roaring Lion Bullet head-on as, for the first time that night, her own battle aura finally visually manifested itself. Shining the same silver aluminum hue of Japan's one yen coin, the tax collector's ki appeared as a luminescent vertical disk hovering a few inches in front of her right hand. The moment Ryouga's vitriolic green ki struck it, though, the disk _stretched_ and became a funnel with the tapered end flowing into Kaeda's arm.

The female martial artist's forward momentum was immediately reversed as the kinetic force of Ryouga's ki projectile pushed her back, but instead of a damaging impact the ShiShiHoukoudan was sucked into and—much to Ryouga's utter astonishment—guided through the ki meridians within Kaeda's body. Down her right arm, across her stomach, and up her left arm until it reached the end of her left hand where a twin aluminum disk emerged and disgorged the Roaring Lion Bullet back at its unprepared master.

_**BWOOOM!**_

Ryouga had a brief moment to reflect on how unpleasant it felt to be on the receiving end of his own attack as he was knocked back half a dozen yards and narrowly avoiding falling into one of the many large holes he'd blasted into the much-abused street that night, but even that was more time than he could spare. Kaeda had already rebounded off her feet and was rushing him at—thankfully—_normal_ inhuman martial arts speeds instead of the Toriyama Akira-inspired speeds of earlier.

_She's good_, the Lost Boy thought with growing respect as he rolled to his feet and raised a hand to block a kick from one of his opponent's supple legs.

_No, she's great_, he mentally revised his opinion upward as the kick turned out to be another feint and he hastily responded to the true attack delivered by Kaeda's other leg...which turned out to be another feint as her left hand reached for his chest in an open-palm strike—

"Garnish—"

Ryouga's left hand darted sideways in desperation and caught Kaeda's extending arm by the wrist before she could make contact and complete the attack she was calling out. He then threw her one-handed at the nearest building to get her as far away as possible before she could employ another trick, but in the same instant he released her she hooked a foot around his right ankle and used it to spin around him, rebound off the ground, and come at him from behind and above.

The Lost Boy immediately ducked down in a 180° split, swung his legs back together behind him, planted his hands on the ground, and then pushed himself into the air so his feet would strike Kaeda as she soared over him. The tax collector countered with a hasty aerial somersault that brought her own feet descending down on her opponent's and then used his own momentum to springboard off his feet and higher into the air until—with another somersault—she landed several yards away safely out of Ryouga's reach...or, more accurately, _momentarily_ safely out of Ryouga's reach.

The fanged Hibiki closed on her in barely more than a second, fists flying in a simple but unrelenting cadence as he aimed for a decisive knock-out blow. Kaeda reacted with an initially impromptu series of evasions that quickly morphed into a highly sophisticated defense as she analyzed Ryouga's strikes, identified the patterns behind them, and projected where the next blows would fall.

Close enough to grapple but neither able to secure a hold on the other, the two martial artists battled up and down the badly damaged street. The Lost Boy was relentless in his assault, but the tax collector was equally determined in her defense. And yet, despite the hard battle and its high stakes, as the brown eyes of one fighter met the black eyes of the other both saw a sparkle in the other's gaze that they recognized as being reflected in their own.

Hibiki Ryouga and Sato Kaeda were having fun.

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

**And so the duet of martial artists danced the dance of battling mavens—**

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

"You've been consulting a thesaurus for obscure words, haven't you Haruhi?"

"Ha! You're just in awe of my superlatively meritorious mastery of the writer's argot, Kyon!"

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

**And so the duet of martial artists danced the dance of battling mavens, both adepts in the ancient art of combat and creators of a rare beauty found only on battlefields when opponents give their all and pit themselves against each other without reservation, without hatred, and without deception. Hibiki Ryouga and Sato Kaeda stood before each other unmasked as they dueled, the intensity of their battle making misunderstandings impossible. Every moment communicated motivation and purpose more clearly than words or even a 38 tankoubon volume manga series could, linking the two fighters together in the subtle yet superlative bond of honorable warriors who have faced each other and recognized one other as kindred spirits in battle.**

**But while the lost wanderer and the tax collector's battle strengthened the ties between them, it stirred thoughts and emotions of an entirely different sort in another.**

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

Ukyo was not jealous as she watched the lost idiot and crazy rice girl battle each other. Heck, in her own way she was even happy; normally it was Ranma who had the dangerous encounters with beautiful women who alternately tried to kill and marry him, and it was a relief that her fiancé was not at the center of the brewing disaster for once. She only wished that whatever bizarre malady had afflicted Ryoko and Kaeda's minds would infect Akane too and make life easier for everyone...well, okay, only for Ranma and herself, but that was good enough for the okonomiyaki chef.

She was, however, unsettled as she watched the fight unfold, and the cause of her unease was the raven-haired Sato Kaeda who was—surprisingly—holding her own against the Lost Boy. Oh sure, Ryouga was—like an idiot!—holding back slightly because his opponent was a cute girl, and the tax collector's _absurdly_ conspicuous bosom stopped Ryouga from even attempting any upper body strikes. Those handicaps in Kaeda's favor aside, though, she was matching or countering her opponent blow-for-blow and if she'd known about Ryouga's inhuman constitution earlier and adjusted her tactics accordingly the battle might have already been over.

In other words, Sato Kaeda actually had a decent shot of winning this duel, and, while Ukyo didn't care _at all_ how Ryouga fared, if Kaeda could defeat the Lost Boy then—just possibly—she could defeat Ranma too. And that acknowledgement didn't sit well with Ukyo, in part because it meant her own odds against the tax collector were flat-out abysmal but also because of how Ranma might react to Nerima's newest arrival. To Ranma and his pride as a martial artist, being the best was everything. If Kaeda could defeat him or even simply fight him to a standstill Ranma would become _obsessed_ with the tax collector...who was also a voluptuously attractive young woman, and the line between obsession and love was already dangerously thin in Nerima.

Ukyo knew she was being unreasonable with this train of thought. Kaeda had no interest in Ranma, had never met Ranma, and—if the okonomiyaki chef had any say in the matter—would be out of Nerima before she even had the opportunity to meet Ranma. Still, the chef's thoughts continued to race unpleasantly ahead, and she didn't like where they were going. Akane, Kodachi, Shampoo, and herself could compete for Ranma as women—and that was a competition Ukyo was confident she would win!—but Kaeda could compete _with_ Ranma as a martial artist, and that was an appeal Ukyo feared she could not match. Not when martial arts were and always would be Ranma's greatest passion, and not when she'd let herself be left behind _again_, this time as a martial artist and by her own choice, to pursue him as a fiancée instead.

_By accepting that I'd never defeat Ranma, have I lost what I hoped to gain from the decision? I'd never thought about this before because I can hold my own against Shampoo and do more than break even against Kodachi and Akane and none of us are anywhere near Ranma's level, but Kaeda is different. She's a bonafide contemporary of his and possibly even an equal, and if she stays there's no telling how things will change in Nerima. I've gotta find someway for her to settle her account with Ryouga and then get her out of here, but how—_

"Financial Disclosure!"

"ShiShiHoukoudan!"

The ear-splitting boom produced by the silver and green ki attacks colliding interrupted Ukyo's unhappy train of thought, and she winced at the sound of nearby glass windows shattering as the shockwave reached them. She was going to have _words_ with Ryouga when this duel was over about fighting battles outside her restaurant.

"My, those two are certainly putting on an interesting show," Ryoko commented convivially beside the okonomiyaki chef during the brief pause in the fight as both combatants recovered themselves, a questioning look on her face as she glanced at her fellow bystander. "Though I can't help but wonder why all of Sato's technique names are in English when she said her school of martial arts originated in ancient China. Do you happen to have any ideas concerning that?"

Ukyo automatically opened her mouth to answer but then realized it was a mystery to her too and settled for a noncommittal shrug instead.

"It's probably just a quirk of her family's style. New branches of schools often modify and rename techniques for their own purposes, and her ancestors might have gotten caught up in the Western craze during the early Meiji period."

The sound of furious close-quarters combat as Ryouga and Kaeda's intense flurry resumed momentary draw both girls' attention back to the fight, and Ryoko released a wistful sigh.

"You're fortunate to live in such an exciting time and place, Kuonji. Boredom must be a rare occurrence around here."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, exactly. Sure, Nerima doesn't lack for action, but after awhile it starts to feel like part of the same routine, and some things don't change nearly fast enough for my liking." _Like my relationship with Ranma-honey. We could be happily married and co-managing a thriving business together by now if he'd only get over his unwillingness to hurt Akane and Shampoo and admit that I'm the one he likes best! He's almost as bad as Ryouga when it comes to having the courage to confess!_

Ryoko huffed slightly in disappointment. "Is that so? Perhaps you might feel differently if you changed your perspective? If what you term strange phenomena begin to feel mundane after repeated exposure, then you've lost sight of what makes the phenomena 'strange' in the first place. I hope Yuki doesn't share your attitude; otherwise her assignment would be intolerable."

"Yuki?" Ukyo asked curiously, spying an opportunity to learn more about Ryouga's strange blue-haired accomplice. "A friend of yours, I assume?"

Ryoko's smile widened.

"A friend? I suppose in the sense you use that word around here in Nerima, then yes...you could say Yuki is my friend."

The alien chuckled, and even though there was nothing insincere or even unusual about the laughter it still set Ukyo on edge.

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

**Silence.**

**Extreme silence.**

**The type of tension filled, no holds barred EXTREME silence where time CREEPS to a standstill slower than an unwanted anime-only filler arc and every extra-extraordinarily suspensefully taut moment bears down with enough pressure to CRUSH an Imperial Star Destroyer cruising the stars in search of impertinent rebels who don't understand the benefits of absolute dictatorship! **

**Such was the silence as Hibiki Ryouga and Sato Kaeda gazed at each other across the dozen yards separating them on the destroyed, re-destroyed, and then destroyed again for good measure ruins of a street in Nerima's normally thriving but uncharacteristically empty that night business district. Each wore the bruises and marks of battle proudly as they breathed heavily (but silently! Honestly! It's a secret martial arts technique!), and each knew deep in their warriors' hearts that the next exchange of mortal combat (minus the lethality!) would be decisive. And so they prepared, gathering their will and their wits for one last epic round of AWESOME battle.**

**And then...their warrior spirits erupted in twin battle-cries loud enough to cause Saint Peter to file a noise complaint with the heavenly authorities!**

**"KIIAAAII!"**

**"EEEAAAUUUAAAHHH!"**

**The two martial artists' auras detonated in silver and green Praxis explosions. The reiteratively destroyed street was re-destroyed afresh from the shockwave and further re-re-destroyed as the two teenage martial artists charged at each other with enough force in their steps to split the ground behind them. Less than a second from each other they drew back their fists and—**

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

Less than a second from having her protagonists—or hapless victims, as I was beginning to think of them—presumably Phoenix Punch each other into opposite horizons, Haruhi suddenly stopped typing and sat back in her chair with an unhappy huff. Uh-oh.

"Ungh. This story is still lacking something, but what? It has the male protagonist with no social skills, an alien class president, a tsundere best friend, and the sexy rival! What more could it possibly need?"

Class? Or failing that, main characters who aren't caricatures of misused cliches?

"Aha! I've got it! Clearly what's needed to spice up the story is a new character to fill out the five man band roster!"

...Whoever it is who introduced Haruhi to TV Tropes, you've doomed us all!

Unexpectedly, before I could speak and perform the unsung eleventh labor of Hercules that is keeping the Haruhi doomsday clock from striking twelve, Miss Asahina finally played her hand.

"How about a...uh, er, a magical girl?"

Everyone turned to look at the sweet but timid girl who was nervously wringing her hands and looked as if she was a few steps away from melting under the attention like heavenly sweet chocolate in the sun.

"Ah, well, you see...Suzumiya's idea for a magical girl battle chef from the future for her movie was so terri—I mean, _terribly_ interesting, that I believe adding a magical girl to her short story would be an _excellent_ idea."

Haruhi was skeptical but, since the one who suggested the idea was _not_ me, actually responded with what passed for tact from her.

"I appreciate the enthusiasm, Mikuru, but the purpose of writing this story is to do something mind-staggeringly original. I can't do that if I recycle ideas, even if they're great and awesome ideas of my own!"

Excuse me? Have you read your own story, Haruhi? It's kind of hard to take your statement at face value when you're regurgitating two decades of anime in 50,000 words or less.

Miss Asahina, almost but not quite cringing, rose from her chair at the table and walked over to Haruhi.

"Ah, but you see...this isn't just _any_ magical girl. She's an...ah, a magical girl police officer who travels across dimensions to investigate crimes and bring intergalactic criminals to justice, and she's also a clone created by a mad scientist mother to replace her dead daughter! I, uh, was going to use her in my own writing assignment last year, but I didn't have the time to do her justice because I, uh, was too busy helping Tsuruya with her own story! So...um, I'd be honored if you gave her the chance to finally shine, Miss Suzumiya. I, er, I even drew a picture to help with the visualization."

She held up the hand-drawn picture for all of us to see before placing it on top of Haruhi's desk, and I barely repressed a groan at what it depicted: a tall, shapely blonde with red eyes and twin ponytails wearing a predominantly black uniform consisting of an overcoat that parted at the waist and ended just below her knees, a short skirt, matching stockings, gray metallic boots, and a white cloak. The purportedly fictional magical girl wielded a mechanical, scythe-like weapon and wore an expression that was simultaneously cute, badass, and moe. Considering the nature of her story thus far, there was less than a snowball's chance in hell Haruhi would reject a character with a design so gratuitously tailored to appeal to wide demographics.

"I take back what I said, Mikuru! This is _exactly_ the kind of constructive contributing process I want for this story, and I'm glad you have the right idea unlike a certain _other_, lowly ranked member of this Brigade who goes out of his way to dam the beautiful spring of creativity and whose name isn't even worth dignifying."

Oh, _very_ subtle Haruhi.

"Anyway, time to write her grand entrance into the story, but first...what is her name? Is it something awesome like Pretty Planeswalker Pimiko, the Beautiful Dreamer of Yamatai?"

"Um, actually she's foreign—"

"Even better!"

OOOoooOOOOOOoooOOO

_This is it!_, Ryouga and Kaeda thought in unison as their twin battle charges reached their apexes and they readied themselves for their finale exchange. _It's all or—_

_**VAROOM!**_

_What?!_

The two martial artists screeched to a halt as a flash of golden lightning struck the ground between them. Reflexively raising an arm each to protect their eyes from the blinding light, the two dueling teenagers were startled when they lowered their arms a moment later and discovered that the thunderbolt was in fact a blonde woman—a blonde woman with a stern expression on her face and holding a powerfully blazing energy-scythe horizontally between the two martial artists to keep them separated.

"I am Enforcer Fate T. Harlaown from the Time-Space Administration Bureau," the young woman said calmly. "Please tell me the details of this case."

* * *

><p>Author's Notes: I confess—my true purpose for writing this story had nothing to do with Ryouga being one of my favorite characters and me wanting to try out new narrative techniques and everything to do with setting up a catfight between Fate and Ryoko, so please look forward to the next chapter where those two duke it out!<p>

More seriously, for those readers who are still bearing with this story despite the LONG delay between updates (Thank you very much for your patience!), Fate is one of the main characters from the Lyrical Nanoha franchise. The thought of Mikuru's time travel faction having connections with the Time-Space Administration Bureau struck me as amusing and Fate has the potential to make a great straight man/foil to the quirkiness of the rest of the cast, so I decided to add her to the story and see how things work out. For chronology purposes, assume that this Fate is pulled from some time point between the Nanoha A's and StrikerS seasons.

Anyway, my apologies for the long wait for this update. There's been a large degree of uncertainty in my life recently that's either about to decrease or increase significantly in the next few weeks depending on how things work out, but while that is part of the reason for the delay the greater truth is that I had a great deal of trouble writing these chapters and had to repeatedly step away and take a break in order to get a better perspective. The scenes simply weren't living up to my standards and even now I'm not entirely satisfied with how everything turned out, but I think overall these two chapters are at a level where it's worthwhile to move on and continue the story rather than hash out every issue I have with them.

At any rate, thanks again for reading. Even though the wait probably wasn't worth it, I do hope you enjoy these new chapters. And Happy 2013!


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